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Aunt Jane's Nieces In The Red Cr=
oss
By
L. Frank Baum
(AKA Edith Van Dyne)
=
FOREWORD
This is the story of how three brave American
girls sacrificed the comforts and luxuries of home to go abroad and nurse t=
he
wounded soldiers of a foreign war.
I wish I might have depicted more gently the
scenes in hospital and on battlefield, but it is well that my girl readers
should realize something of the horrors of war, that they may unite with he=
art
and soul in earnest appeal for universal, lasting Peace and the future
abolition of all deadly strife.
Except to locate the scenes of my heroines'
labors, no attempt has been made to describe technically or historically any
phase of the great European war.
The character of Doctor Gys is not greatly
exaggerated but had its counterpart in real life. As for the little Belgian=
who
had no room for scruples in his active brain, his story was related to me b=
y an
American war correspondent who vouched for its truth. The other persona in =
the story
are known to those who have followed their adventures in other books of the
"Aunt Jane's Nieces" series.
=
&nb=
sp; =
EDITH VAN DYNE
Contents:=
CHAPTER
I - THE ARRIVAL OF THE BOY
CHAPTER
II - THE ARRIVAL OF THE GIRL
CHAPTER
III - THE DECISION OF DOCTOR GYS.
CHAPTER
IV - THE HOSPITAL SHIP
CHAPTER
VII - ON THE FIRING LINE
CHAPTER
IX - COURAGE, OR PHILOSOPHY?
CHAPTER
XV - DR. GYS SURPRISES HIMSELF
CHAPTER
XVII - PERPLEXING PROBLEMS
CHAPTER
XVIII - A QUESTION OF LOYALTY
"What's the news, Uncle?" asked Miss
Patricia Doyle, as she entered the cosy breakfast room of a suite of apartm=
ents
in Willing Square. Even as she spoke she pecked a little kiss on the forehe=
ad
of the chubby man addressed as "Uncle"--none other, if you please,
than the famous and eccentric multi-millionaire known in Wall Street as John
Merrick--and sat down to pour the coffee.
There was energy in her method of doing this
simple duty, an indication of suppressed vitality that conveyed the idea th=
at
here was a girl accustomed to action. And she fitted well into the homely
scene: short and somewhat "squatty" of form, red-haired,
freckle-faced and pug-nosed. Wholesome rather than beautiful was Patsy Doyl=
e,
but if you caught a glimpse of her dancing blue eyes you straightway forgot=
her
lesser charms.
Quite different was the girl who entered the r=
oom
a few minutes later. Hers was a dark olive complexion, face of exquisite
contour, great brown eyes with a wealth of hair to match them and the flush=
of
a rose in her rounded cheeks. The poise of her girlish figure was gracious =
and dignified
as the bearing of a queen.
"Morning, Cousin Beth," said Patsy
cheerily.
"Good morning, my dear," and then, w= ith a trace of anxiety in her tone: "What is the news, Uncle John?" <= o:p>
The little man had ignored Patsy's first quest=
ion,
but now he answered absently, his eyes still fixed upon the newspaper:
"Why, they're going to build another huge
skyscraper on Broadway, at Eleventh, and I see the political pot is beginni=
ng
to bubble all through the Bronx, although--"
"Stuff and nonsense, Uncle!" exclaim=
ed
Patsy. "Beth asked for news, not for gossip."
"The news of the war, Uncle John," a=
dded
Beth, buttering her toast.
"Oh; the war, of course," he said,
turning over the page of the morning paper. "It ought to be the Allies'
day, for the Germans won yesterday. No--by cracky, Beth--the Germans triumph
again; they've captured Maubeuge. What do you think of that?"
Patsy gave a little laugh.
"Not knowing where Maubeuge is," she remarked, "my only thought is that something is wrong with the London press bureau. Perhaps the cables got crossed--or short circuited or somethi= ng. They don't usually allow the Germans to win two days in succession." <= o:p>
"Don't interrupt, please," said Beth,
earnestly. "This is too important a matter to be treated lightly. Read=
us
the article, Uncle. I was afraid Maubeuge would be taken."
Patsy accepted her cousin's rebuke with her
accustomed good nature. Indeed, she listened as intently as Beth to the
thrilling account of the destruction of Maubeuge, and her blue eyes became
quite as serious as the brown ones of her cousin when the tale of dead and
wounded was recounted.
"Isn't it dreadful!" cried Beth,
clasping her hands together impulsively.
"Yes," nodded her uncle, "the
horror of it destroys the interest we naturally feel in any manly struggle =
for
supremacy."
"This great war is no manly struggle,&quo=
t;
observed Patsy with a toss of her head. "It is merely wholesale murder=
by
a band of selfish diplomats."
"Tut-tut!" warned Mr. Merrick; "=
;we
Americans are supposed to be neutral, my dear. We must not criticize."=
"That does not prevent our sympathizing w=
ith
the innocent sufferers, however," said Beth quietly. "My heart go=
es
out, Uncle, to those poor victims of the war's cruelty, the wounded and dyi=
ng.
I wish I could do something to help them!"
Uncle John moved uneasily in his chair. Then he
laid down his paper and applied himself to his breakfast. But his usual mer=
ry
expression had faded into one of thoughtfulness.
"The wounded haunt me by day and night,&q=
uot;
went on Beth. "There are thousands upon thousands of them, left to suf=
fer
terrible pain--perhaps to die--on the spot where they fell, and each one is
dear to some poor woman who is ignorant of her loved one's fate and can do
nothing but moan and pray at home."
"That's the hard part of it," said
Patsy, her cousin. "I think the mothers and wives and sweethearts are =
as
much to be pitied as the fallen soldiers. The men know what has happened, b=
ut
the women don't. It isn't so bad when they're killed outright; the family g=
ets
a medal to indicate that their hero has died for his country. But the wound=
ed
are lost sight of and must suffer in silence, with no loving hands to sooth=
e their
agony."
"My dears!" pleaded Uncle John,
plaintively, "why do you insist upon flavoring our breakfast with these
horrors? I--I--there! take it away; I can't eat."
The conversation halted abruptly. The girls we=
re
likewise unnerved by the mental pictures evolved by their remarks and it was
now too late to restore cheerfulness to the morning meal. They sat in pensi=
ve
silence for a while and were glad when Mr. Merrick pushed back his chair an=
d rose
from the table.
As Beth and Patsy followed their uncle into the
cosy library where he was accustomed to smoke his morning cigar, the little=
man
remarked:
"Let's see; this is the seventh of
September."
"Quite right, Uncle," said Patsy.
"Isn't this the day Maud Stanton is due to
arrive?"
"No," replied Beth; "she will c=
ome
to-morrow morning. It's a good four days' trip from California to New York,=
you
know."
"I wonder why she is coming here at this =
time
of year," said Patsy reflectively, "and I wonder if her Aunt Jane=
or
her sister Flo are with her."
"She did not mention them in her
telegram," answered Beth. "All she said was to expect her Wednesd=
ay
morning. It seems quite mysterious, that telegram, for I had no idea Maud
thought of coming East."
"Well, we will know all about it when she
arrives," observed Uncle John. "I will be glad to see Maud again,=
for
she is one of my especial favorites."
"She's a very dear girl!" exclaimed
Patsy, with emphasis. "It will be simply glorious to--"
The doorbell rang sharply. There was a moment's
questioning pause, for it was too early for visitors. The pattering feet of=
the
little maid, Mary, approached the door and next moment a boyish voice deman=
ded:
"Is Mr. Merrick at home, or the young lad=
ies,
or--"
"Why, it's Ajo!" shouted Patsy,
springing to her feet and making a dive for the hallway.
"Jones?" said Mr. Merrick, looking
incredulous.
"It must be," declared Beth, for now
Patsy's voice was blended with that of the boy in a rapid interchange of
question and answer. Then in she came, dragging him joyously by the arm.
"This is certainly a surprise!" said=
Mr.
Merrick, shaking the tall, slender youth by the hand with evident pleasure.=
"When did you get to town?" asked Be=
th,
greeting the boy cordially. "And why didn't you let us know you were on
the way from far-off Los Angeles?"
"Well," said Jones, seating himself
facing them and softly rubbing his lean hands together to indicate his
satisfaction at this warm reception, "it's a long, long story and I ma=
y as
well tell it methodically or you'll never appreciate the adventurous spirit
that led me again to New York--the one place I heartily detest."
"Oh, Ajo!" protested Patsy. "Is
this the way to retain the friendship of New Yorkers?"
"Isn't honesty appreciated here?" he
wanted to know.
"Go ahead with your story," said Unc=
le
John. "We left you some months ago at the harbor of Los Angeles, wonde=
ring
what you were going to do with that big ship of yours that lay anchored in =
the
Pacific. If I remember aright, you were considering whether you dared board=
it
to return to that mysterious island home of yours at--at--"
"Sangoa," said Patsy.
"Thank you for giving me a
starting-point," returned the boy, with a smile. "You may remember
that when I landed in your country from Sangoa I was a miserable invalid. T=
he
voyage had ruined my stomach and wrecked my constitution. I crossed the
continent to New York and consulted the best specialists--and they nearly p=
ut
an end to me. I returned to the Pacific coast to die as near home as possib=
le,
and--and there I met you."
"And Patsy saved your life," added B=
eth.
"She did. First, however, Maud Stanton sa=
ved
me from drowning. Then Patsy Doyle doctored me and made me well and strong.=
And
now--"
"And now you look like a modern
Hercules," asserted Patsy, gazing with some pride at the bronzed cheeks
and clear eyes of the former invalid and ignoring his slight proportions.
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself since then?"
"Taking a sea voyage," he affirmed. =
"Really?"
"An absolute fact. For months I dared not
board the Arabella, my sea yacht, for fear of a return of my old malady; but
after you deserted me and came to this--this artificial, dreary,
bewildering--"
"Never mind insulting my birthplace,
sir!"
"Oh! were you born here, Patsy? Then I'll
give the town credit. So, after you deserted me at Los Angeles--"
"You still had Mrs. Montrose and her niec=
es,
Maud and Flo Stanton."
"I know, and I love them all. But they be=
came
so tremendously busy that I scarcely saw them, and finally I began to feel
lonely. Those Stanton girls are chock full of business energy and they hadn=
't
the time to devote to me that you people did. So I stood on the shore and
looked at the Arabella until I mustered up courage to go aboard. Surviving
that, I made Captain Carg steam slowly along the coast for a few miles. Not=
hing
dreadful happened. So I made a day's voyage, and still ate my three squares=
a day.
That was encouraging."
"I knew all the time it wasn't the voyage
that wrecked your stomach," said Patsy confidently.
"What was it, then?"
"Ptomaine poisoning, or something like
that."
"Well, anyhow, I found I could stand ocean
travel again, so I determined on a voyage. The Panama Canal was just opened=
and
I passed through it, came up the Atlantic coast, and--the Arabella is at th=
is
moment safely anchored in the North River!"
"And how do you feel?" inquired Uncle
John.
"Glorious--magnificent! The trip has seal=
ed
my recovery for good."
"But why didn't you go home, to your Isla=
nd
of Sangoa?" asked Beth.
He looked at her reproachfully.
"You were not there, Beth; nor was Patsy,=
or
Uncle John. On the other hand, there is no one in Sangoa who cares a rap
whether I come home or not. I'm the last of the Joneses of Sangoa, and whil=
e it
is still my island and the entire population is in my employ, the life there
flows on just as smoothly without me as if I were present."
"But don't they need the ship--the
Arabella?" questioned Beth.
"Not now. I sent a cargo of supplies by
Captain Carg when he made his last voyage to the island, and there will not=
be
enough pearls found in the fisheries for four or five months to come to war=
rant
my shipping them to market. Even then, they would keep. So I'm a free lance=
at present
and I had an idea that if I once managed to get the boat around here you fo=
lks
might find a use for it."
"In what way?" inquired Patsy, with
interest.
"We might all make a trip to Barbadoes, B=
ermuda
and Cuba. Brazil is said to be an interesting country. I'd prefer Europe, w=
ere
it not for the war."
"Oh, Ajo, isn't this war terrible?" =
"No other word expresses it. Yet it all s=
eems
like a fairy tale to me, for I've never been in any other country than the
United States since I made my first voyage here from Sangoa--the island whe=
re
my eyes first opened to the world."
"It isn't a fairy tale," said Beth w=
ith
a shudder. "It's more like a horrible nightmare."
"I can't bear to read about it any
more," he returned, musingly. "In fact, I've only been able to ca=
tch
rumors of the progress of the war in the various ports at which I've touche=
d,
and I came right here from my ship. But I've no sympathy with either side. =
The
whole thing annoys me, somehow--the utter uselessness and folly of it
all."
"Maubeuge has fallen," said Beth, and
went on to give him the latest tidings. Finding that the war was the absorb=
ing
topic in this little household, the boy developed new interest in it and the
morning passed quickly away.
Jones stayed to lunch and then Mr. Merrick's
automobile took them all to the river to visit the beautiful yacht Arabella,
which was already, they found, attracting a good deal of attention in the
harbor, where beautiful yachts are no rarity.
The Arabella was intended by her builders for =
deep
sea transit and as Patsy admiringly declared, "looked like a baby
liner." While she was yacht-built in all her lines and fittings, she w=
as
far from being merely a pleasure craft, but had been designed by the elder
Jones, the boy's father, to afford communication between the Island of Sang=
oa,
in the lower South Seas, and the continent of America.
Sangoa is noted for its remarkable pearl
fisheries, which were now owned and controlled entirely by this youth; but =
his
father, an experienced man of affairs, had so thoroughly established the
business of production and sale that little remained for his only son and h=
eir
to do, more than to invest the profits that steadily accrued and to care for
the great fortune left him. Whether he was doing this wisely or not no one-=
-not
even his closest friends--could tell. But he was frank and friendly about
everything else.
They went aboard the Arabella and were receive=
d by
that grim and grizzled old salt, Captain Carg, with the same wooden
indifference he always exhibited. But Patsy detected a slight twinkle in the
shrewd gray eyes that made her feel they were welcome. Carg, a seaman of va=
st experience,
was wholly devoted to his young master. Indeed, the girls suspected that yo=
ung
Jones was a veritable autocrat in his island, as well as aboard his ship.
Everyone of the Sangoans seemed to accept his dictation, however imperative=
it
might be, as a matter of course, and the gray old captain--who had seen muc=
h of
the world--was not the least subservient to his young master.
On the other hand, Jones was a gentle and
considerate autocrat, unconsciously imitating his lately deceased father in=
his
kindly interest in the welfare of all his dependents. These had formerly be=
en free-born
Americans, for when the Island of Sangoa was purchased it had no inhabitant=
s.
This fortunate--or perhaps unfortunate--youth =
had
never been blessed with a given name, more than the simple initial
"A." The failure of his mother and father to agree upon a baptism=
al
name for their only child had resulted in a deadlock; and, as the family
claimed a direct descent from the famous John Paul Jones, the proud father
declared that to be "a Jones" was sufficient honor for any boy; h=
ence
he should be known merely as "A. Jones." The mother called her ch=
ild
by the usual endearing pet names until her death, after which the islanders
dubbed the master's son--then toddling around in his first
trousers--"Ajo," and the name had stuck to him ever since for wan=
t of
a better one.
With the Bohemian indifference to household
routine so characteristic of New Yorkers, the party decided to dine at a
down-town restaurant before returning to Willing Square, and it was during =
this
entertainment that young Jones first learned of the expected arrival of Maud
Stanton on the following morning. But he was no wiser than the others as to
what mission could have brought the girl to New York so suddenly that a tel=
egram
was required to announce her coming.
"You see, I left Los Angeles weeks ago,&q=
uot;
the boy explained, "and at that time Mrs. Montrose and her nieces were
busy as bees and much too occupied to pay attention to a drone like me. The=
re
was no hint then of their coming East, but of course many things may have
happened in the meantime."
The young fellow was so congenial a companion =
and
the girls were so well aware of his loneliness, through lack of acquaintanc=
es,
that they carried him home with them to spend the evening. When he finally =
left
them, at a late hour, it was with the promise to be at the station next mor=
ning
to meet Maud Stanton on her arrival.
A sweet-faced girl, very attractive but with a=
sad
and anxious expression, descended from the Pullman and brightened as she fo=
und
her friends standing with outstretched arms to greet her.
"Oh, Maud!" cried Patsy, usurping the
first hug, "how glad I am to see you again!"
Beth looked in Maud Stanton's face and forbore=
to
speak as she embraced her friend. Then Jones shook both hands of the new
arrival and Uncle John kissed her with the same tenderness he showed his own
nieces.
This reception seemed to cheer Maud Stanton
immensely. She even smiled during the drive to Willing Square--a winning,
gracious smile that would have caused her to be instantly recognized in alm=
ost
any community of our vast country; for this beautiful young girl was a famo=
us
motion picture actress, possessing qualities that had endeared her to every=
patron
of the better class photo-dramas.
At first she had been forced to adopt this occ=
upation
by the stern necessity of earning a livelihood, and under the careful guida=
nce
of her aunt--Mrs. Jane Montrose, a widow who had at one time been a favorit=
e in
New York social circles--Maud and her sister Florence had applied themselve=
s so
intelligently to their art that their compensation had become liberal enoug=
h to
enable them to save a modest competence.
One cause of surprise at Maud's sudden journey
east was the fact that her services were in eager demand by the managers of=
the
best producing companies on the Pacific Coast, where nearly all the American
pictures are now made. Another cause for surprise was that she came alone, =
leaving
her Aunt Jane and her sister Flo--usually her inseparable companion--in Los
Angeles.
But they did not question her until the cosy h=
ome
at Willing Square was reached, luncheon served and Maud installed in the
"Guest Room." Then the three girls had "a good, long talk&qu=
ot;
and presently came trooping into the library to enlighten Uncle John and Aj=
o.
"Oh, Uncle! What do you think?" cried
Patsy. "Maud is going to the war!"
"The war!" echoed Mr. Merrick in a
bewildered voice. "What on earth can--"
"She is going to be a nurse," explai=
ned
Beth, a soft glow of enthusiasm mantling her pretty face. "Isn't it
splendid, Uncle!"
"H-m," said Uncle John, regarding the
girl with wonder. "It is certainly a--a--surprising venture."
"But--see here, Maud--it's mighty
dangerous," protested young Jones. "It's a tremendous undertaking,
and--what can one girl do in the midst of all those horrors?"
Maud seated herself quietly between them. Her =
face
was grave and thoughtful.
"I have had to answer many such arguments
before now, as you may suspect," she began in even tones, "but the
fact that I am here, well on my journey, is proof that I have convinced my
aunt, my sister and all my western friends that I am at least determined on=
my
mission, whether it be wise or foolish. I do not think I shall incur danger=
by
caring for the wounded; the Red Cross is highly respected everywhere, these
days."
"The Red Cross?" quoth Uncle John. <= o:p>
"Yes; I shall wear the Red Cross," s=
he
continued. "You know that I am a trained nurse; it was part of my
education before--before--"
"I had not known that until now," sa=
id
Mr. Merrick, "but I am glad you have had that training. Beth began a
course at the school here, but I took her away to Europe before she graduat=
ed.
However, I wish more girls could be trained for nursing, as it is a more us=
eful
and admirable accomplishment than most of them now acquire."
"Fox-Trots and Bunny-Hugs, for
instance," said Patricia with fine disdain.
"Patsy is a splendid nurse," declared
Ajo, with a grateful look toward that chubby miss.
"But untrained," she answered
laughingly. "It was just common sense that enabled me to cure your mal=
ady,
Ajo. I couldn't bandage a cut or a bullet wound to save me."
"Fortunately," said Maud, "I ha=
ve a
diploma which will gain for me the endorsement of the American Red Cross
Society. I am counting on that to enable me to get an appointment at the se=
at
of war, where I can be of most use."
"Where will you go?" asked the boy.
"To Germany, Austria, Russia, Belgium, or--"
"I shall go to France," she replied.
"I speak French, but understand little of German, although once I stud=
ied
the language."
"Are you fully resolved upon this course,
Maud?" asked Mr. Merrick in a tone of regret.
"Fully decided, sir. I am going to Washin=
gton
to-morrow, to get my credentials, and then I shall take the first steamer to
Europe."
There was no use arguing with Maud Stanton when
she assumed that tone. It was neither obstinate nor defiant, yet it conveye=
d a
quiet resolve that was unanswerable.
For a time they sat in silence, musing on the =
many
phases of this curious project; then Beth came to Mr. Merrick's side and as=
ked pleadingly:
"May I go with her, Uncle?"
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed, with a
nervous jump. "You, Beth?"
"Yes, Uncle. I so long to be of help to t=
hose
poor fellows who are being so cruelly sacrificed; and I know I can soothe m=
uch
suffering, if I have the opportunity."
He stared at her, not knowing what to reply. T=
his
quaint little man was so erratic himself, in his sudden resolves and eccent=
ric
actions, that he could scarcely quarrel with his niece for imitating an exa=
mple
he had frequently set. Still, he was shrewd enough to comprehend the reckle=
ss daring
of the proposition.
"Two unprotected girls in the midst of war
and carnage, surrounded by foreigners, inspired to noble sacrifice through
ignorance and inexperience, and hardly old enough to travel alone from Hobo=
ken
to Brooklyn! Why, the thing's absurd," he said.
"Quite impractical," added Ajo, nodd=
ing
wisely. "You're both too pretty, my dears, to undertake such an advent=
ure.
Why, the wounded men would all fall in love with their nurses and follow you
back to America in a flock; and that might put a stop to the war for lack of
men to fight it."
"Don't be silly, Ajo," said Patsy,
severely. "I've decided to go with Maud and Beth, and you know very we=
ll
that the sight of my freckled face would certainly chill any romance that m=
ight
arise."
"That's nonsense, Patsy!"
"Then you consider me beautiful, Uncle
John?"
"I mean it's nonsense about your going wi=
th
Maud and Beth. I won't allow it."
"Oh, Uncle! You know I can twine you arou=
nd
my little finger, if I choose. So don't, for goodness' sake, start a rumpus=
by
trying to set your will against mine."
"Then side with me, dear. I'm quite right=
, I
assure you."
"You're always right, Nunkie, dear,"=
she
cried, giving him a resounding smack of a kiss on his chubby cheek as she s=
at
on the arm of his chair, "but I'm going with the girls, just the same,=
and
you may as well make up your mind to it."
Uncle John coughed. He left his chair and trot=
ted
up and down the room a moment. Then he carefully adjusted his spectacles, t=
ook
a long look at Patsy's face, and heaved a deep sigh of resignation.
"Thank goodness, that's settled," sa=
id
Patsy cheerfully.
Uncle John turned to the boy, saying dismally:=
"I've done everything in my power for the=
se
girls, and now they defy me. They've declared a thousand times they love me,
and yet they'd trot off to bandage a lot of unknown foreigners and leave me
alone to worry my heart out."
"Why don't you go along?" asked Jone=
s.
"I'm going."
"You!"
"Of course. I've a suspicion our girls ha=
ve the
right instinct, sir--the tender, womanly instinct that makes us love them. =
At
any rate, I'm going to stand by them. It strikes me as the noblest and gran=
dest
idea a girl ever conceived, and if anything could draw me closer to these t=
hree
young ladies, who had me pretty well snared before, it is this very proposi=
tion."
"I don't see why," muttered Uncle Jo=
hn,
wavering.
"I'll tell you why, sir. For themselves, =
they
have all the good things of life at their command. They could bask in luxur=
y to
the end of their days, if they so desired. Yet their wonderful womanly symp=
athy
goes out to the helpless and suffering--the victims of the cruellest war th=
e world
has ever known--and they promptly propose to sacrifice their ease and brave
whatever dangers may befall, that they may relieve to some extent the pain =
and
agony of those wounded and dying fellow creatures."
"Foreigners," said Uncle John weakly=
.
"Human beings," said the boy.
Patsy marched over to Ajo and gave him a sturdy
whack upon the back that nearly knocked him over.
"The spirit of John Paul Jones still goes
marching on!" she cried. "My boy, you're the right stuff, and I'm
glad I doctored you."
He smiled, looking from one to another of the
three girls questioningly.
"Then I'm to go along?" he asked.
"We shall be grateful," answered Mau=
d,
after a moment's hesitation. "This is all very sudden to me, for I had
planned to go alone."
"That wouldn't do at all," asserted
Uncle John briskly. "I'm astonished and--and grieved--that my nieces
should want to go with you, but perhaps the trip will prove interesting. Te=
ll
me what steamer you want to catch, Maud, and I'll reserve rooms for our ent=
ire
party."
"No," said Jones, "don't do it,
sir."
"Why not?"
"There's the Arabella. Let's use her.&quo=
t;
"To cross the ocean?"
"She has done that before. It will assist=
our
enterprise, I'm sure, to have our own boat. These are troublous times on the
high seas."
Patsy clapped her hands gleefully.
"That's it; a hospital ship!" she
exclaimed.
They regarded her with various expressions:
startled, doubtful, admiring, approving. Presently, with added thought on t=
he
matter, the approval became unanimous.
"It's an amazing suggestion," said M=
aud,
her eyes sparkling.
"Think how greatly it will extend our
usefulness," said Beth.
Uncle John was again trotting up and down the
room, this time in a state of barely repressed excitement.
"The very thing!" he cried.
"Clever, practical, and--eh--eh--tremendously interesting. Now, then,
listen carefully--all of you! It's up to you, Jones, to accompany Maud on t=
he
night express to Washington. Get the Red Cross Society to back our scheme a=
nd
supply us with proper credentials. The Arabella must be rated as a hospital
ship and our party endorsed as a distinct private branch of the Red Cross--=
what
they call a 'unit.' I'll give you a letter to our senator and he will look
after our passports and all necessary papers. I--I helped elect him, you kn=
ow.
And while you're gone it shall be my business to fit the ship with all the
supplies we shall need to promote our mission of mercy."
"I'll share the expense," proposed t=
he
boy.
"No, you won't. You've done enough in
furnishing the ship and crew. I'll attend to the rest."
"And Beth and I will be Uncle John's
assistants," said Patsy. "We shall want heaps of lint and bandage=
s,
drugs and liniments and--"
"And, above all, a doctor," advised =
Ajo.
"One of the mates on my yacht, Kelsey by name, is a half-way physician,
having studied medicine in his youth and practiced it on the crew for the l=
ast
dozen years; but what we really need on a hospital ship is a bang-up
surgeon."
"This promises to become an expensive
undertaking," remarked Maud, with a sigh. "Perhaps it will be bet=
ter
to let me go alone, as I originally expected to do. But, if we take along t=
he
hospital ship, do not be extravagant, Mr. Merrick, in equipping it. I feel =
that
I have been the innocent cause of drawing you all into this venture and I do
not want it to prove a hardship to my friends."
"All right, Maud," returned Uncle Jo=
hn,
with a cheerful grin, "I'll try to economize, now that you've warned
me."
Ajo smiled and Patsy Doyle laughed outright. T=
hey
knew it would not inconvenience the little rich man, in the slightest degre=
e,
to fit out a dozen hospital ships.
Uncle John was up bright and early next mornin=
g,
and directly after breakfast he called upon his old friend and physician, D=
r.
Barlow. After explaining the undertaking on which he had embarked, Mr. Merr=
ick
added:
"You see, we need a surgeon with us; a
clever, keen chap who understands his business thoroughly, a sawbones with =
all
the modern scientific discoveries saturating him to his finger-tips. Tell me
where to get him."
Dr. Barlow, recovering somewhat from his
astonishment, smiled deprecatingly.
"The sort of man you describe," said=
he,
"would cost you a fortune, for you would oblige him to abandon a large=
and
lucrative practice in order to accompany you. I doubt, indeed, if any price
would tempt him to abandon his patients."
"Isn't there some young fellow with these
requirements?"
"Mr. Merrick, you need a physician and
surgeon combined. Wounds lead to fever and other serious ailments, which ne=
ed
skillful handling. You might secure a young man, fresh from his clinics, who
would prove a good surgeon, but to master the science of medicine, experien=
ce
and long practice are absolutely necessary."
"We've got a half-way medicine man on the
ship now--a fellow who has doctored the crew for years and kept 'em pretty
healthy. So I guess a surgeon will about fill our bill."
"H-m, I know these ship's doctors, Mr.
Merrick, and I wouldn't care to have you and your nieces trust your lives to
one, in case you become ill. Believe me, a good physician is as necessary to
you as a good surgeon. Do you know that disease will kill as many of those
soldiers as bullets?"
"No."
"It is true; else the history of wars has
taught us nothing. We haven't heard much of plagues and epidemics yet, in t=
he
carefully censored reports from London, but it won't be long before disease
will devastate whole armies."
Uncle John frowned. The thing was growing
complicated.
"Do you consider this a wild goose chase,
Doctor?" he asked.
"Not with your fortune, your girls and yo=
ur
fine ship to back it. I think Miss Stanton's idea of venturing abroad
unattended, to nurse the wounded, was Quixotic in the extreme. Some American
women are doing it, I know, but I don't approve of it. On the other hand, y=
our
present plan is worthy of admiration and applause, for it is eminently
practical if properly handled."
Dr. Barlow drummed upon the table with his
fingers, musingly. Then he looked up.
"I wonder," said he, "if Gys wo=
uld
go. If you could win him over, he would fill the bill."
"Who is Gys?" inquired Uncle John. <= o:p>
"An eccentric; a character. But clever and
competent. He has just returned from Yucatan, where he accompanied an
expedition of exploration sent out by the Geographical Society--and, by the
way, nearly lost his life in the venture. Before that, he made a trip to the
frozen North with a rescue party. Between times, he works in the hospitals,=
or
acts as consulting surgeon with men of greater fame than he has won; but Gy=
s is
a rolling stone, erratic and whimsical, and with all his talent can never
settle down to a steady practice."
"Seems like the very man I want," sa=
id
Uncle John, much interested. "Where can I find him?"
"I've no idea. But I'll call up Collins a=
nd
inquire."
He took up the telephone receiver and got his
number.
"Collins? Say, I'm anxious to find Gys. H=
ave
you any idea--Eh? Sitting with you now? How lucky. Ask him if he will come =
to
my office at once; it's important."
Uncle John's face was beaming with satisfactio=
n.
The doctor waited, the receiver at his ear.
"What's that, Collins?... He won't come?.=
..
Why not?... Absurd!... I've a fine proposition for him.... Eh? He isn't
interested in propositions? What in thunder is he interested in?... Pshaw! =
Hold
the phone a minute."
Turning to Mr. Merrick, he said:
"Gys wants to go on a fishing trip. He pl=
ans
to start to-night for the Maine woods. But I've an idea if you could get him
face to face you might convince him."
"See if he'll stay where he is till I can=
get
there."
The doctor turned to the telephone and asked t=
he
question. There was a long pause. Gys wanted to know who it was that propos=
ed
to visit him. John Merrick, the retired millionaire? All right; Gys would w=
ait
in Collins' office for twenty minutes.
Uncle John lost no time in rushing to his motor
car, where he ordered the driver to hasten to the address Dr. Barlow had gi=
ven
him.
The offices of Dr. Collins were impressive. Mr.
Merrick entered a luxurious reception room and gave his name to a businessl=
ike
young woman who advanced to meet him. He had called to see Dr. Gys.
The young woman smothered a smile that crept to
her lips, and led Uncle John through an examination room and an operating
room--both vacant just now--and so into a laboratory that was calculated to
give a well person the shivers. Here was but one individual, a man in his s=
hirt-sleeves
who was smoking a corncob pipe and bending over a test tube.
Uncle John coughed to announce his presence, f=
or
the woman had slipped away as she closed the door. The man's back was turned
partially toward his visitor. He did not alter his position as he said:
"Sit down. There's a chair in the southwe=
st
corner."
Uncle John found the chair. He waited patientl=
y a
few moments and then his choler began to rise.
"If you're in such a blamed hurry to go
fishing, why don't you get rid of me now?" he asked.
The shoulders shook gently and there was a
chuckling laugh. The man laid down his test tube and swung around on his st=
ool.
For a moment Mr. Merrick recoiled. The face was
seared with livid scars, the nose crushed to one side, the mouth crooked and
set in a sneering grin. One eye was nearly closed and the other round and w=
ide
open. A more forbidding and ghastly countenance Mr. Merrick had never beheld
and in his surprise he muttered a low exclamation.
"Exactly," said Gys, his voice quiet=
and
pleasant. "I don't blame you and I'm not offended. Do you wonder I
hesitate to meet strangers?"
"I--I was not--prepared," stammered
Uncle John.
"That was Barlow's fault. He knows me and
should have told you. And now I'll tell you why I consented to see you. No!
never mind your own proposition, whatever it is. Listen to mine first. I wa=
nt
to go fishing, and I haven't the money. None of my brother physicians will =
lend
me another sou, for I owe them all. You are John Merrick, to whom money is =
of
little consequence. May I venture to ask you for an advance of a couple of
hundred for a few weeks? When I return I'll take up your proposition, whate=
ver
it may be, and recompense you in services."
He refilled and relighted the corncob while Mr.
Merrick stared at him in thoughtful silence. As a matter of fact, Uncle John
was pleased with the fellow. A whimsical, irrational, unconventional appeal=
of
this sort went straight to his heart, for the queer little man hated the co=
mmonplace
most cordially.
"I'll give you the money on one
condition," he said.
"I object to the condition," said Gys
firmly. "Conditions are dangerous."
"My proposition," went on Uncle John,
"won't wait for weeks. When you hear it, if you are not anxious to tak=
e it
up, I don't want you. Indeed, I'm not sure I want you, anyhow."
"Ah; you're frightened by my features. Mo=
st
people with propositions are. I'm an unlucky dog, sir. They say it's good l=
uck
to touch a hunchback; to touch me is the reverse. Way up North in a frozen =
sea
a poor fellow went overboard. I didn't get him and he drowned; but I got ca=
ught
between two cakes of floating ice that jammed my nose out of its former per=
fect
contour. In Yucatan I tumbled into a hedge of poisoned cactus and had to
operate on myself--quickly, too--to save my life. Wild with pain, I slashed=
my
face to get the poisoned tips of thorn out of the flesh. Parts of my body a=
re
like my face, but fortunately I can cover them. It was bad surgery. On anot=
her
I could have operated without leaving a scar, but I was frantic with pain.
Don't stare at that big eye, sir; it's glass. I lost that optic in Pernambu=
co
and couldn't find a glass substitute to fit my face. Indeed, this was the o=
nly
one in town, made for a fat Spanish lady who turned it down because it was =
not exactly
the right color."
"You certainly have
been--eh--unfortunate," murmured Uncle John.
"See here," said Gys, taking a leath=
er
book from an inside pocket of the coat that hung on a peg beside him, and
proceeding to open it. "Here is a photograph of me, taken before I
embarked upon my adventures."
Uncle John put on his glasses and examined the
photograph curiously. It was a fine face, clean-cut, manly and expressive. =
The
eyes were especially frank and winning.
"How old were you then?" he asked. <= o:p>
"Twenty-four."
"And now?"
"Thirty-eight. A good deal happened in th=
at
fourteen years, as you may guess. And now," reaching for the photograph
and putting it carefully back in the book, "state your proposition and
I'll listen to it, because you have listened so patiently to me."
Mr. Merrick in simple words explained the plan=
to
take a hospital ship to Europe, relating the incidents that led up to the
enterprise and urging the need of prompt action. His voice dwelt tenderly on
his girls and the loyal support of young Jones.
Dr. Gys smoked and listened silently. Then he
picked up the telephone and called a number.
"Tell Hawkins I've abandoned that fishing
trip," he said. "I've got another job." Then he faced Mr.
Merrick. His smile was not pretty, but it was a smile.
"That's my answer, sir."
"But we haven't talked salary yet." =
"Bother the salary. I'm not mercenary.&qu=
ot;
"And I'm not sure--"
"Yes, you are. I'm going with you. Do you
know why?"
"It's a novel project, very appealing fro=
m a
humanitarian standpoint and--"
"I hadn't thought of that. I'm going beca=
use
you're headed for the biggest war the world has ever known; because I fores=
ee
danger ahead, for all of us; but mainly because--"
"Well?"
"Because I'm a coward--a natural born
coward--and I can have a lot of fun forcing myself to face the shell and
shrapnel. That's the truth; I'm not a liar. And for a long time I've been
wondering--wondering--" His voice died away in a murmur.
"Well, sir?"
Dr. Gys roused himself.
"Oh; do you want a full confession? For a
long time, then, I've been wondering what's the easiest way for a man to di=
e.
No, I'm not morbid. I'm simply ruined, physically, for the practice of a
profession I love, a profession I have fully mastered, and--I'll be happier
when I can shake off this horrible envelope of disfigurement."
The energy of Doctor Gys was marvelous. He knew
exactly what supplies would be needed to fit the Arabella thoroughly for her
important mission, and with unlimited funds at his command to foot the bill=
s,
he quickly converted the handsome yacht into a model hospital ship. Gys from
the first developed a liking for Kelsey, the mate, whom he found a valuable
assistant, and the two came to understand each other perfectly. Kelsey was a
quiet man, more thoughtful than experienced in medical matters, but his com=
mon
sense often guided him aright when his technical knowledge was at fault.
Captain Carg accepted the novel conditions thr=
ust
upon him, without a word of protest. He might secretly resent the uses to w=
hich
his ship was being put, but his young master's commands were law and his du=
ty
was to obey. The same feeling prevailed among the other members of the crew=
, all
of whom were Sangoans.
In three days Jones and Maud Stanton returned =
from
Washington. They were jubilant over their success.
"We've secured everything we wanted,"
the boy told Uncle John, Beth and Patsy, with evident enthusiasm. "Not
only have we the full sanction of the American Red Cross Society, but I have
letters to the different branches in the war zone, asking for us every
consideration. Not only that, but your senator proved himself a brick. What=
do
you think? Here's a letter from our secretary of state--another from the Fr=
ench
charge d'affairs--half a dozen from prominent ambassadors of other countrie=
s! We've
a free field in all Europe, practically, that will enable us to work to the
best advantage."
"It's wonderful!" cried Patsy.
"Mr. Merrick is so well known as a
philanthropist that his name was a magic talisman for us," said Maud.
"Moreover, our enterprise commands the sympathy of everyone. We had
numerous offers of financial assistance, too."
"I hope you didn't accept them," said
Uncle John nervously.
"No," answered the boy, "I clai=
med
this expedition to be our private and individual property. We can now do as=
we
please, being under no obligations to any but ourselves."
"That's right," said Uncle John.
"We don't want to be hampered by the necessity of advising with
others."
"By the way, have you found a doctor?&quo=
t;
"Yes."
"A good one?" asked Maud quickly.
"Highly recommended, but homely as a rail
fence," continued Patsy, as her uncle hesitated.
"That's nothing," said Ajo lightly. =
"Nothing, eh? Well, wait till you see
him," she replied. "You'll never look Doctor Gys in the face more
than once, I assure you. After that, you'll be glad to keep your eyes on his
vest buttons."
"I like him immensely, though," said
Beth. "He is clever, honest and earnest. The poor man can't help his
mutilations, which are the result of many unfortunate adventures."
"Sounds like just the man we wanted,"
declared Ajo, and afterward he had no reason to recall that assertion.
A week is a small time in which to equip a big
ship, but money and energy can accomplish much and the news from the seat of
war was so eventful that they felt every moment to be precious and so they
worked with feverish haste. The tide of German success had turned and their=
great
army, from Paris to Vitry, was now in full retreat, fighting every inch of =
the
way and leaving thousands of dead and wounded in its wake.
"How long will it take us to reach
Calais?" they asked Captain Carg eagerly.
"Eight or nine days," said he.
"We are not as fast as the big passenger
steamers," explained young Jones, "but with good weather the Arab=
ella
may be depended upon to make the trip in good shape and fair time."
On the nineteenth of September, fully equipped= and with her papers in order, the beautiful yacht left her anchorage and began = her voyage. The weather proved exceptionally favorable. During the voyage the g= irls busied themselves preparing their modest uniforms and pumping Dr. Gys for a= ll sorts of information, from scratches to amputations. He gave them much practical and therefore valuable advice to guide them in whatever emergenci= es might arise, and this was conveyed in the whimsical, half humorous manner t= hat seemed characteristic of him. At first Gys had shrunk involuntarily from fa= cing this bevy of young girls, but they had so frankly ignored his physical blemishes and exhibited so true a comradeship to all concerned in the expedition, that the doctor soon felt perfectly at ease in their society. <= o:p>
During the evenings he gave them practical
demonstrations of the application of tourniquets, bandages and the like, wh=
ile
Uncle John and Ajo by turns posed as wounded soldiers. Gys was extraordinar=
ily
deft in all his manipulations and although Maud Stanton was a graduate nurs=
e--with
little experience, however--and Beth De Graf had studied the art for a year=
or
more, it was Patsy Doyle who showed the most dexterity in assisting the doc=
tor
on these occasions.
"I don't know whether I'll faint at the s=
ight
of real blood," she said, "but I shall know pretty well what to d=
o if
I can keep my nerve."
The application of anaesthetics was another th=
ing
fully explained by Gys, but this could not be demonstrated. Patsy, however,=
was
taught the use of the hypodermic needle, which Maud and Beth quite understo=
od.
"We've a big stock of morphia, in its var=
ious
forms," said the doctor, "and I expect it to prove of tremendous
value in comforting our patients."
"I'm not sure I approve the use of that
drug," remarked Uncle John.
"But think of the suffering we can allay =
by
its use," exclaimed Maud. "If ever morphia is justifiable, it is =
in
war, where it can save many a life by conquering unendurable pain. I believe
the discovery of morphine was the greatest blessing that humanity has ever
enjoyed. Don't you, Doctor Gys?"
The one good eye of Gys had a queer way of
twinkling when he was amused. It twinkled as the girl asked this question. =
"Morphine," he replied, "has
destroyed more people than it has saved. You play with fire when you feed i=
t to
anyone, under any circumstances. Nevertheless, I believe in its value on an
expedition of this sort, and that is why I loaded up on the stuff. Let me
advise you never to tell a patient that we are administering morphine. The
result is all that he is concerned with and it is better he should not know
what has relieved him."
On a sunny day when the sea was calm they slun=
g a
scaffold over the bow and painted a big red cross on either side of the whi=
te
ship. Everyone aboard wore the Red Cross emblem on an arm band, even the
sailors being so decorated. Uncle John was very proud of the insignia and l=
oved
to watch his girls moving around the deck in their sober uniforms and white=
caps.
Jones endured the voyage splendidly and by this
time had convinced himself that he was not again to be subject to the
mal-de-mer of his first ocean trip. As they drew near to their destination =
an
atmosphere of subdued excitement pervaded the Arabella, for even the sailors
had caught the infection of the girls' eagerness and were anxious to get in=
to
action at the earliest moment.
It was now that Uncle John began to busy himse=
lf
with his especial prize, a huge motor ambulance he had purchased in New York
and which had been fully equipped for the requirements of war. Indeed, an
enterprising manufacturer had prepared it with the expectation that some of=
the
belligerent governments would purchase it, and Mr. Merrick considered himse=
lf
fortunate in securing it. It would accommodate six seriously wounded, on
swinging beds, and twelve others, slightly wounded, who might be able to sit
upon cushioned seats. The motor was very powerful and the driver was protec=
ted
from stray bullets by an armored hood.
In addition to this splendid machine, Mr. Merr=
ick
had secured a smaller ambulance that had not the advantage of the swinging =
beds
but could be rushed more swiftly to any desired location. Both ambulances w=
ere decorated
on all sides with the emblem of the Red Cross and would be invaluable in
bringing the wounded to the Arabella. The ship carried a couple of small mo=
tor
launches for connecting the shore with her anchorage.
They had purposely brought no chauffeurs with
them, as Uncle John believed foreign drivers, who were thoroughly acquainted
with the country, would prove more useful than the American variety, and fr=
om experience
he knew that a French chauffeur is the king of his profession.
During the last days of the voyage Mr. Merrick=
busied
himself in carefully inspecting every detail of his precious vehicles and e=
xplaining
their operation to everyone on board. Even the girls would be able to run an
ambulance on occasion, and the boy developed quite a mechanical talent in
mastering the machines.
"I feel," said young Jones, "th=
at I
have had a rather insignificant part in preparing this expedition, for all I
have furnished--aside from the boat itself--consists of two lots of luxuries
that may or may not be needed."
"And what may they be?" asked Dr. Gy=
s,
who was standing in the group beside him.
"Thermos flasks and cigarettes."
"Cigarettes!" exclaimed Beth, in hor=
ror.
The doctor nodded approvingly.
"Capital!" said he. "Next to our
anodynes and anaesthetics, nothing will prove so comforting to the wounded =
as
cigarettes. They are supplied by nurses in all the hospitals in Europe. How
many did you bring?"
"Ten cases of about twenty-five thousand
each."
"A quarter of a million cigarettes!"
gasped Beth.
"Too few," asserted the doctor in a =
tone
of raillery, "but we'll make them go as far as possible. And the therm=
os
cases are also valuable. Cool water to parched lips means a glimpse of heav=
en.
Hot coffee will save many from exhaustion. You've done well, my boy." =
On September twenty-eighth they entered the
English Channel and were promptly signalled by a British warship, so they w=
ere
obliged to lay to while a party of officers came aboard. The Arabella was
flying the American flag and the Red Cross flag, but the English officer co=
urteously
but firmly persisted in searching the ship. What he found seemed to interest
him, as did the papers and credentials presented for his perusal.
"And which side have you come to
assist?" he asked.
"No side at all, sir," replied Jones=
, as
master of the Arabella. "The wounded, the sick and helpless, whatever
uniform they chance to wear, will receive our best attention. But we are bo=
und
for Calais and intend to follow the French army."
The officer nodded gravely.
"Of course," said he, "you are
aware that the channel is full of mines and that progress is dangerous unle=
ss
you have our maps to guide you. I will furnish your pilot with a diagram,
provided you agree to keep our secret and deliver the diagram to the English
officer you will meet at Calais."
They agreed to this and after the formalities =
were
concluded the officer prepared to depart.
"I must congratulate you," he remark= ed on leaving, "on having the best equipped hospital ship it has been my fortune to see. There are many in the service, as you know, but the boats a= re often mere tubs and the fittings of the simplest description. The wounded w= ho come under your care will indeed be fortunate. It is wonderful to realize t= hat you have come all the way from America, and at so great an expense, to help= the victims of this sad war. For the Allies I thank you, and--good-bye!" <= o:p>
They remembered this kindly officer long afterward, for he proved more generous than many of the English they met. <= o:p>
Captain Carg now steamed ahead, watching his c=
hart
carefully to avoid the fields of mines, but within two hours he was again
hailed, this time by an armored cruiser. The first officer having vised the
ship's papers, they were spared the delay of another search and after a bri=
ef examination
were allowed to proceed. They found the channel well patrolled by war craft=
and
no sooner had they lost sight of one, than another quickly appeared.
At Cherbourg a French dreadnaught halted them =
and
an officer came aboard to give them a new chart of the mine fields between
there and Calais and full instructions how to proceed safely. This officer,=
who
spoke excellent English, asked a thousand questions and seemed grateful for=
their
charitable assistance to his countrymen.
"You have chosen a dangerous post," =
said
he, "but the Red Cross is respected everywhere--even by the Germans. H=
ave
you heard the latest news? We have driven them back to the Aisne and are
holding the enemy well in check. Antwerp is under siege, to be sure, but it=
can
hold out indefinitely. The fighting will be all in Belgium soon, and then i=
n Germany.
Our watchword is 'On to Berlin!'"
"Perhaps we ought to proceed directly to
Ostend," said Uncle John.
"The Germans still hold it, monsieur. In a
few days, perhaps, when Belgium is free of the invaders, you will find work
enough to occupy you at Ostend; but I advise you not to attempt to go there
now."
In spite of the friendly attitude of this offi=
cer
and of the authorities at Cherbourg, they were detained at this port for
several days before finally receiving permission to proceed. The delay was
galling but had to be endured until the infinite maze of red tape was at an
end. They reached Calais in the early evening and just managed to secure an=
anchorage
among the fleet of warships in the harbor.
Again they were obliged to show their papers a=
nd
passports, now vised by representatives of both the English and French navi=
es,
but this formality being over they were given a cordial welcome.
Uncle John and Ajo decided to go ashore for the
latest news and arrived in the city between nine and ten o'clock that same
evening. They found Calais in a state of intense excitement. The streets we=
re
filled with British and French soldiery, with whom were mingled groups of
citizens, all eagerly discussing the war and casting uneasy glances at the
black sky overhead for signs of the dreaded German Zeppelins.
"How about Antwerp?" Jones asked an
Englishman they found in the lobby of one of the overcrowded hotels.
The man turned to stare at him; he looked his
questioner up and down with such insolence that the boy's fists involuntari=
ly
doubled; then he turned his back and walked away. A bystander laughed with
amusement. He also was an Englishman, but wore the uniform of a subaltern. =
"What can you expect, without a formal
introduction?" he asked young Jones. "But I'll answer your questi=
on,
sir; Antwerp is doomed."
"Oh; do you really think so?" inquir=
ed
Uncle John uneasily.
"It's a certainty, although I hate to adm=
it
it. We at the rear are not very well posted on what is taking place over in
Belgium, but it's said the bombardment of Antwerp began yesterday and it's
impossible for the place to hold out for long. Perhaps even now the city has
fallen under the terrific bombardment."
There was something thrilling in the suggestio=
n.
"And then?" asked Jones, almost
breathlessly.
The man gave a typical British shrug.
"Then we fellows will find work to do,&qu=
ot;
he replied. "But it is better to fight than to eat our hearts out by
watching and waiting. We're the reserves, you know, and we've hardly smelled
powder yet."
After conversing with several of the soldiers =
and
civilians--the latter being mostly too unnerved to talk coherently--the
Americans made their way back to the quay with heavy hearts. They threaded
lanes filled with sobbing women, many of whom had frightened children cling=
ing
to their skirts, passed groups of old men and boys who were visibly trembli=
ng with
trepidation and stood aside for ranks of brisk soldiery who marched with an
alertness that was in strong contrast with the terrified attitude of the
citizens. There was war in the air--fierce, relentless war in every word and
action they encountered--and it had the effect of depressing the newcomers.=
That night an earnest conference was held aboa=
rd
the Arabella.
"As I understand it, here is the gist of =
the
situation," began Ajo. "The line of battle along the Aisne is
stationary--for the present, at least. Both sides are firmly entrenched and
it's going to be a long, hard fight. Antwerp is being bombarded, and althou=
gh
it's a powerful fortress, the general opinion is that it can't hold out for
long. If it falls, there will be a rush of Germans down this coast, first to
capture Dunkirk, a few miles above here, and then Calais itself."
"In other words," continued Uncle Jo=
hn,
"this is likely to be the most important battleground for the next few
weeks. Now, the question to decide is this: Shall we disembark our ambulanc=
es
and run them across to Arras, beginning our work behind the French trenches=
, or
go on to Dunkirk, where we are likely to plunge into the thickest of the wa=
r? We're
not fighters, you know, but noncombatants, bent on an errand of mercy. There
are wounded everywhere."
They considered this for a long time without
reaching a decision, for there were some in the party to argue on either si=
de
of the question. Uncle John continued to favor the trenches, as the safest
position for his girls to work; but the girls themselves, realizing little =
of
the dangers to be encountered, preferred to follow the fortunes of the Belg=
ians.
"They've been so brave and noble, these
people of Belgium," said Beth, "that I would take more pleasure in
helping them than any other branch of the allied armies."
"But, my dear, there's a mere handful of =
them
left," protested her uncle. "I'm told that at Dunkirk there is st=
ill
a remnant of the Belgian army--very badly equipped--but most of the remaini=
ng
force is with King Albert in Antwerp. If the place falls they will either be
made prisoners by the Germans or they may escape into Holland, where their
fighting days will be ended for the rest of the war. However, there is no n=
eed
to decide this important question to-night. To-morrow I am to see the French
commandant and I will get his advice."
The interview with the French commandant of Ca=
lais,
which was readily accorded the Americans, proved very unsatisfactory. The
general had just received reports that Antwerp was in flames and the greater
part of the city already demolished by the huge forty-two-centimetre guns of
the Germans. The fate of King Albert's army was worrying him exceedingly an=
d he
was therefore in little mood for conversation.
The American consul could do little to assist
them. After the matter was explained to him, he said:
"I advise you to wait a few days for your
decision. Perhaps a day--an hour--will change the whole angle of the war.
Strange portents are in the air; no one knows what will happen next. Come to
me, from time to time, and I will give you all the information I secure.&qu=
ot;
Dr. Gys had accompanied Jones and Mr. Merrick =
into
Calais to-day, and while he had little to say during the various interviews=
his
observations were shrewd and comprehensive. When they returned to the deck =
of
the Arabella, Gys said to the girls:
"There is nothing worth while for us to d=
o here.
The only wounded I saw were a few Frenchmen parading their bandaged heads a=
nd
hands for the admiration of the women. The hospitals are well organized and
quite full, it is true, but I'm told that no more wounded are being sent he=
re. The
Sisters of Mercy and the regular French Red Cross force seem very competent=
to
handle the situation, and there are two government hospital ships already
anchored in this port. We would only be butting in to offer our services. B=
ut
down the line, from Arras south, there is real war in the trenches and many=
are
falling every day. Arras is less than fifty miles from here--a two or three
hours' run for our ambulances--and we could bring the wounded here and care=
for
them as we originally intended."
"Fifty miles is a long distance for a wou=
nded
man to travel," objected Maud.
"True," said the doctor, "but t=
he
roads are excellent."
"Remember those swinging cots," said
Ajo.
"We might try it," said Patsy, anxio=
us
to be doing something. "Couldn't we start to-morrow for Arras, Uncle?&=
quot;
"It occurs to me that we must first find a
chauffeur," answered Mr. Merrick, "and from my impressions of the
inhabitants of Calais, that will prove a difficult task."
"Why?"
"Every man jack of 'em is scared stiff,&q=
uot;
said Ajo, with a laugh. "But we might ask the commandant to recommend
someone. The old boy seems friendly enough."
The next day, however, brought important news =
from
Antwerp. The city had surrendered, the Belgian army had made good its escape
and was now retreating toward Ostend, closely followed by the enemy.
This news was related by a young orderly who m=
et
them as they entered the Hotel de Ville. They were also told that the
commandant was very busy but would try to see them presently. This young
Frenchman spoke English perfectly and was much excited by the morning's
dispatches.
"This means that the war is headed our wa=
y at
last!" he cried enthusiastically. "The Germans will make a dash to
capture both Dunkirk and Calais, and already large bodies of reinforcements=
are
on the way to defend these cities."
"English, or French?" asked Uncle Jo=
hn.
"This is French territory," was the
embarrassed reply, "but we are glad to have our allies, the English, to
support us. Their General French is now at Dunkirk, and it is probable the
English will join the French and Belgians at that point."
"They didn't do much good at Antwerp, it
seems," remarked Ajo.
"Ah, they were naval reserves, monsieur, =
and
not much could be expected of them. But do not misunderstand me; I admire t=
he
English private--the fighting man--exceedingly. Were the officers as clever=
as
their soldiers are brave, the English would be irresistible."
As this seemed a difficult subject to discuss,
Uncle John asked the orderly if he knew of a good chauffeur to drive their
ambulance--an able, careful man who might be depended upon in emergencies. =
The orderly reflected.
"We have already impressed the best
drivers," he said, "but it may be the general will consent to spa=
re
you one of them. Your work is so important that we must take good care of
you."
But when they were admitted to the general they
found him in a more impatient mood than before. He really could not underta=
ke
to direct Red Cross workers or advise them. They were needed everywhere;
everywhere they would be welcome. And now, he regretted to state that he was
very busy; if they had other business with the department, Captain Meroux w=
ould
act as its representative.
Before accepting this dismissal Uncle John
ventured to ask about a chauffeur. Rather brusquely the general stated that
they could ill afford to spare one from the service. A desperate situation =
now
faced the Allies in Flanders. Captain Meroux must take care of the American=
s; doubtless
he could find a driver for their ambulance--perhaps a Belgian.
But in the outer office the orderly smiled
doubtfully.
A driver? To be sure; but such as he could fur=
nish
would not be of the slightest use to them. All the good chauffeurs had been
impressed and the general was not disposed to let them have one.
"He mentioned a Belgian," suggested
Uncle John.
"I know; but the Belgians in Calais are a=
ll
fugitives, terror-stricken and unmanned." He grew thoughtful a moment =
and
then continued: "My advice would be to take your ship to Dunkirk. It is
only a little way, through a good channel, and you will be as safe there as=
at
Calais. For, if Dunkirk falls, Calais will fall with it. From there, moreov=
er,
the roads are better to Arras and Peronne, and it is there you stand the be=
st
chance of getting a clever Belgian chauffeur. If you wish--" he hesita=
ted,
looking at them keenly.
"Well, sir?"
"If you are really anxious to get to the
firing line and do the most good, Dunkirk is your logical station. If you a=
re
merely seeking the notoriety of being charitably inclined, remain here.&quo=
t;
They left the young man, reflecting upon his
advice and gravely considering its value. They next visited one of the
hospitals, where an overworked but friendly English surgeon volunteered a
similar suggestion. Dunkirk, he declared, would give them better opportunit=
ies than
Calais.
The remainder of the day they spent in getting
whatever news had filtered into the city and vainly seeking a competent man=
for
chauffeur. On the morning of October eleventh they left Calais and proceeded
slowly along the buoyed channel that is the only means of approaching the p=
ort of
Dunkirk by water. The coast line is too shallow to allow ships to enter from
the open sea.
On their arrival at the Flemish city--twelve m=
iles
nearer the front than Calais--they found an entirely different atmosphere. =
No
excitement, no terror was visible anywhere. The people quietly pursued their
accustomed avocations and the city was as orderly as in normal times.
The town was full of Belgians, however, both
soldiers and civilians, while French and British troops were arriving hourl=
y in
regiments and battalions. General French, the English commander in chief, h=
ad
located his headquarters at a prominent hotel, and a brisk and businesslike=
air
pervaded the place, with an entire lack of confusion. Most of the Belgians =
were
reservists who were waiting to secure uniforms and arms. They crowded all t=
he
hotels, cafés and inns and seemed as merry and light-hearted as if no
news of their king's defeat and precipitate retreat had arrived. Not until
questioned would they discuss the war at all, yet every man was on the qui
vive, expecting hourly to hear the roar of guns announcing the arrival of t=
he
fragment of the Belgian army that had escaped from Antwerp.
To-day the girls came ashore with the men of t=
heir
party, all three wearing their Red Cross uniforms and caps, and it was almo=
st
pathetic to note the deference with which all those warriors--both bronzed =
and fair--removed
their caps until the "angels of mercy" had passed them by.
They made the rounds of the hospitals, which w=
ere
already crowded with wounded, and Gys stopped at one long enough to assist =
the
French doctor in a delicate operation. Patsy stood by to watch this surgery,
her face white and drawn, for this was her first experience of the sort; but
Maud and Beth volunteered their services and were so calm and deft that Doc=
tor
Gys was well pleased with them.
It was nearly evening when the Americans final=
ly
returned to the quay, close to which the Arabella was moored. As they neared
the place a great military automobile came tearing along, scattering
pedestrians right and left, made a sudden swerve, caught a man who was not
agile enough to escape and sent him spinning along the dock until he fell h=
eadlong,
a crumpled heap.
"Ah, here is work for us!" exclaimed
Doctor Gys, running forward to raise the man and examine his condition. The
military car had not paused in its career and was well out of sight, but a
throng of indignant civilians gathered around.
"There are no severe injuries, but he see=
ms
unconscious," reported Gys. "Let us get him aboard the ship."=
;
The launch was waiting for them, and with the
assistance of Jones, the doctor placed the injured man in the boat and he w=
as
taken to the ship and placed in one of the hospital berths.
"Our first patient is not a soldier, after
all," remarked Patsy, a little disappointed. "I shall let Beth and
Maud look after him."
"Well, he is wounded, all right,"
answered Ajo, "and without your kind permission Beth and Maud are alre=
ady
below, looking after him. I'm afraid he won't require their services long, =
poor
fellow."
"Why didn't he get out of the way?"
inquired Patsy with a shudder.
"Can't say. Preoccupied, perhaps. There
wasn't much time to jump, anyhow. I suppose that car carried a messenger wi=
th
important news, for it isn't like those officers to be reckless of the live=
s of
citizens."
"No; they seem in perfect sympathy with t=
he
people," she returned. "I wonder what the news can be, Ajo."=
For answer a wild whistling sounded overhead; a
cry came from those ashore and the next instant there was a loud explosion.
Everyone rushed to the side, where Captain Carg was standing, staring at the
sky.
"What was it, Captain?" gasped Patsy=
.
Carg stroked his grizzled beard.
"A German bomb, Miss Patsy; but I think it
did no damage."
"A bomb! Then the Germans are on us?"=
;
"Not exactly. An aeroplane dropped the
thing."
"Oh. Where is it?"
"The aeroplane? Pretty high up, I
reckon," answered the captain. "I had a glimpse of it, for a mome=
nt;
then it disappeared in the clouds."
"We must get our ambulances ashore,"
said Jones.
"No hurry, sir; plenty of time,"
asserted the captain. "I think I saw the airship floating north, so it
isn't likely to bother us again just now."
"What place is north of us?" inquired
the girl, trembling a little in spite of her efforts at control.
"I think it is Nieuport--or perhaps
Dixmude," answered Carg. "I visited Belgium once, when I was a yo=
ung
man, but I cannot remember it very well. We're pretty close to the Belgian =
border,
at Dunkirk."
"There's another!" cried Ajo, as a
second whistling shriek sounded above them. This time the bomb fell into the
sea and raised a small water-spout, some half mile distant. They could now =
see
plainly a second huge aircraft circling above them; but this also took flig=
ht
toward the north and presently disappeared.
Uncle John came hurrying on deck with an anxio=
us
face and together the group of Americans listened for more bombs; but that =
was
all that came their way that night.
"Well," said Patsy, when she had
recovered her equanimity, "we're at the front at last, Uncle. How do y=
ou
like it?"
"I hadn't thought of bombs," he repl=
ied.
"But we're in for it, and I suppose we'll have to take whatever
comes."
Now came the doctor, supporting the injured ma=
n on
one side while Maud Stanton held his opposite arm. Gys was smiling broadly-=
-a
rather ghastly expression.
"No bones broken, sir," he reported =
to
Mr. Merrick. "Only a good shake-up and plenty of bruises. He can't be
induced to stay in bed."
"Bed, when the Germans come?" exclai=
med
the invalid, scornfully, speaking in fair English. "It is absurd! We c=
an
sleep when we have driven them back to their dirty Faderland--we can sleep,
then, and rest. Now, it is a crime to rest."
They looked at him curiously. He was a small
man--almost a tiny man--lean and sinewy and with cheeks the color of bronze=
and
eyes the hue of the sky. His head was quite bald at the top; his face wrink=
led;
he had a bushy mustache and a half-grown beard. His clothing was soiled, to=
rn
and neglected; but perhaps his accident accounted for much of its condition.
His age might be anywhere from thirty to forty years. He looked alert and
shrewd.
"You are Belgian?" said Uncle John. =
He leaned against the rail, shaking off the
doctor's support, as he replied:
"Yes, monsieur. Belgian born and American
trained." There was a touch of pride in his voice. "It was in Ame=
rica
that I made my fortune."
"Indeed."
"It is true. I was waiter in a New York
restaurant for five years. Then I retired. I came back to Belgium. I marrie=
d my
wife. I bought land. It is near Ghent. I am, as you have guessed, a person =
of
great importance."
"Ah; an officer, perhaps. Civil, or
military?" inquired Ajo with mock deference.
"Of better rank than either. I am a citiz=
en."
"Now, I like that spirit," said Uncle
John approvingly. "What is your name, my good man?"
"Maurie, monsieur; Jakob Maurie. Perhaps =
you
have met me--in New York."
"I do not remember it. But if you live in
Ghent, why are you in Dunkirk?"
He cast an indignant glance at his questioner,=
but
Uncle John's serene expression disarmed him.
"Monsieur is not here long?"
"We have just arrived."
"You cannot see Belgium from here. If you=
are
there--in my country--you will find that the German is everywhere. I have my
home at Brussels crushed by a shell which killed my baby girl. My land is
devastate--my crop is taken to feed German horse and German thief. There is=
no
home left. So my wife and my boy and girl I take away; I take them to Osten=
d, where
I hope to get ship to England. At Ostend I am arrested by Germans. Not my w=
ife
and children; only myself. I am put in prison. For three weeks they keep me,
and then I am put out. They push me into the street. No one apologize. I ask
for my family. They laugh and turn away. I search everywhere for my wife. A
friend whom I meet thinks she has gone to Ypres, for now no Belgian can take
ship from Ostend to England. So I go to Ypres. The wandering people have all
been sent to Nieuport and Dunkirk. Still I search. My wife is not in Nieupo=
rt.
I come here, three days ago; I cannot find her in Dunkirk; she has vanished.
Perhaps--but I will not trouble you with that. This is my story, ladies and
gentlemen. Behold in me--a wealthy landowner of Liege--the outcast from home
and country!"
"It is dreadful!" cried Patsy.
"It is fierce," said the man. "=
Only
an American can understand the horror of that word."
"Your fate is surely a cruel one,
Maurie," declared Mr. Merrick.
"Perhaps," ventured Beth, "we m=
ay
help you to find your wife and children."
The Belgian seemed pleased with these expressi=
ons
of sympathy. He straightened up, threw out his chest and bowed very low.
"That is my story," he repeated;
"but you must know it is also the story of thousands of Belgians. Alwa=
ys I
meet men searching for wives. Always I meet wives searching for husbands. W=
ell!
it is our fate--the fate of conquered Belgium."
Maud brought him a deck chair and made him sit
down.
"You will stay here to-night," she s=
aid.
"That's right," said Dr. Gys. "=
He can't
resume his search until morning, that's certain. Such a tumble as he had wo=
uld
have killed an ordinary man; but the fellow seems made of iron."
"To be a waiter--a good waiter--develops =
the
muscles," said Maurie.
Ajo gave him a cigarette, which he accepted
eagerly. After a few puffs he said:
"I heard the German bombs. That means the
enemy grows insolent. First they try to frighten us with bombs, then they
attack."
"How far away do you think the Germans
are?" asked Beth.
"Nieuport les Bains. But they will get no
nearer."
"No?"
"Surely not, mamselle. Our soldiers are
there, awaiting them. Our soldiers, and the French."
"And you think the enemy cannot capture
Dunkirk?" inquired Jones.
"Dunkirk! The Germans capture Dunkirk? It=
is
impossible."
"Why impossible?"
"Dunkirk is fortified; it is the entrance=
to
Calais, to Dover and London. Look you, m'sieur; we cannot afford to lose th=
is
place. We cannot afford to lose even Nieuport, which is our last stand on
Belgian soil. Therefore, the Germans cannot take it, for there are still to=
o many
of us to kill before Kitchener comes to save us." He spoke thoughtfull=
y,
between puffs of his cigarette, and added: "But of course, if the great
English army does not come, and they kill us all, then it will not matter in
the least what becomes of our country."
Maurie's assertion did not wholly reassure the=
m.
The little Belgian was too bombastic to win their confidence in his judgmen=
t.
Yet Jones declared that Maurie doubtless knew the country better than anyone
they had yet met and the doctor likewise defended his patient. Indeed, Gys =
seemed
to have taken quite a fancy to the little man and long after the others had
retired for the night he sat on deck talking with the Belgian and getting h=
is
views of the war.
"You say you had land at Ghent?" he =
once
asked.
"It is true, Doctor."
"But afterward you said Brussels." <= o:p>
Maurie was not at all confused.
"Ah; I may have done so. You see, I trade=
d my
property."
"And, if I am not mistaken, you spoke of a
home at Liege."
Maurie looked at him reproachfully.
"Is there not much land in Belgium?"=
he
demanded; "and is a rich man confined to one home? Liege was my summer
home; in the winter I removed to Antwerp."
"You said Ghent."
"Ghent it was, Doctor. Misfortune has dul=
led
my brain. I am not the man I was," he added with a sigh.
"Nevertheless," said Gys, "you
still possess the qualities of a good waiter. Whatever happens here, Maurie,
you can always go back to America."
Next morning they were all wakened at an early
hour by the roar of artillery, dimly heard in the distance. The party aboard
the Arabella quickly assembled on deck, where little Maurie was found leani=
ng
over the rail.
"They're at it," he remarked, wagging
his head. "The Germans are at Nieuport, now, and some of them are over
against Pervyse. I hear sounds from Dixmude, too; the rattle of machine gun=
s.
It will be a grand battle, this! I wonder if our Albert is there."
"Who is he?" asked Patsy.
"The king. They told me yesterday he had
escaped."
"We must get the ambulances out at
once," said Beth.
"I'll attend to that," replied Uncle
John, partaking of the general excitement. "Warp up to the dock, Capta=
in
Carg, and I'll get some of those men to help us swing the cars over the sid=
e."
"How about a chauffeur?" asked Dr. G=
ys,
who was already bringing out bandages and supplies for the ambulances.
"If we can't find a man, I'll drive you
myself," declared Ajo.
"But you don't know the country."
Gys turned to the little Belgian.
"Can't you find us a driver?" he ask=
ed.
"We want a steady, competent man to run our ambulance."
"Where are you going?" asked Maurie.=
"To the firing line."
"Good. I will drive you myself."
"You? Do you understand a car?"
"I am an expert, monsieur."
"A waiter in a restaurant?"
"Pah! That was five years ago. I will show
you. I can drive any car ever made--and I know every inch of the way."=
"Then you're our man," exclaimed Mr.
Merrick, much relieved.
As the yacht swung slowly alongside the dock t=
he
Belgian said:
"While you get ready, I will go ashore for
news. When I come back--very quick--then I will know everything."
Before he ran down the ladder Patsy clasped ar=
ound
his arm a band bearing the insignia of the Red Cross. He watched her
approvingly, with little amused chuckles, and then quickly disappeared in t=
he
direction of the town.
"He doesn't seem injured in the least by =
his
accident," said the girl, looking after him as he darted along.
"No," returned Gys; "he is one =
of
those fellows who must be ripped to pieces before they can feel anything. B=
ut
let us thank heaven he can drive a car."
Mr. Merrick had no difficulty in getting all t=
he
assistance required to lower the two ambulances to the dock. They had alrea=
dy
been set up and put in order, so the moment they were landed they were ready
for use.
A few surgical supplies were added by Dr. Gys =
and
then they looked around for the Belgian. Although scarce an hour had elapsed
since he departed, he came running back just as he was needed, puffing a li=
ttle
through haste, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.
"Albert is there!" he cried. "T=
he
king and his army are at Nieuport. They will open the dykes and flood all t=
he
country but the main road, and then we can hold the enemy in check. They wi=
ll
fight, those Germans, but they cannot advance, for we will defend the road =
and
the sand dunes."
"Aren't they fighting now?" asked Jo=
nes.
"Oh, yes, some of the big guns are spitti=
ng,
but what is that? A few will fall, but we have yet thousands to face the Ge=
rman
horde."
"Let us start at once," pleaded Maud=
.
Maurie began to examine the big ambulance. He =
was
spry as a cat. In ten minutes he knew all that was under the hood, had test=
ed
the levers, looked at the oil and gasoline supply and started the motor.
"I'll sit beside you to help in case of
emergency," said Ajo, taking his place. Dr. Gys, Dr. Kelsey and the th=
ree
girls sat inside. Patsy had implored Uncle John not to go on this prelimina=
ry
expedition and he had hesitated until the last moment; but the temptation w=
as
too strong to resist and even as the wheels started to revolve he sprang in=
and
closed the door behind him.
"You are my girls," he said, "a=
nd
wherever you go, I'll tag along."
Maurie drove straight into the city and to the
north gate, Jones clanging the bell as they swept along. Every vehicle gave
them the right of way and now and then a cheer greeted the glittering new R=
ed
Cross ambulance, which bore above its radiator a tiny, fluttering American =
flag.
They were not stopped at the gate, for althoug=
h strict
orders had been issued to allow no one to leave Dunkirk, the officer in cha=
rge
realized the sacred mission of the Americans and merely doffed his cap in s=
alutation
as the car flashed by.
The road to Furnes was fairly clear, but as th=
ey
entered that town they found the streets cluttered with troops, military
automobiles, supply wagons, artillery, ammunition trucks and bicycles. The =
boy
clanged his bell continuously and as if by magic the way opened before the =
Red
Cross and cheers followed them on their way.
The eyes of the little Belgian were sparkling =
like
jewels; his hands on the steering wheel were steady as a rock; he drove with
skill and judgment. Just now the road demanded skill, for a stream of refug=
ees
was coming toward them from Nieuport and a stream of military motors, bicyc=
les
and wagons, with now and then a horseman, flowed toward the front. A mile or
two beyond Furnes they came upon a wounded soldier, one leg bandaged and
stained with blood while he hobbled along leaning upon the shoulder of a
comrade whose left arm hung helpless.
Maurie drew up sharply and Beth sprang out and
approached the soldiers.
"Get inside," she said in French.
"No," replied one, smiling; "we=
are
doing nicely, thank you. Hurry forward, for they need you there."
"Who dressed your wounds?" she inqui=
red.
"The Red Cross. There are many there, har=
d at
work; but more are needed. Hurry forward, for some of our boys did not get =
off
as lightly as we."
She jumped into the ambulance and away it dash=
ed,
but progress became slower presently. The road was broad and high; great
hillocks of sand--the Dunes--lay between it and the ocean; on the other side
the water from the opened dykes was already turning the fields into an inla=
nd
sea. In some places it lapped the edges of the embankment that formed the
roadway.
Approaching Nieuport, they discovered the Dune=
s to
be full of soldiers, who had dug pits behind the sandy hillocks for protect=
ion,
and in them planted the dog-artillery and one or two large machine guns. Th=
ese
were trained on the distant line of Germans, who were also entrenching them=
selves.
All along the edge of the village the big guns were in action and there was=
a
constant interchange of shot and shell from both sides.
As Maurie dodged among the houses with the big=
car
a shell descended some two hundred yards to the left of them, exploded with=
a
crash and sent a shower of brick and splinters high into the air. A little =
way farther
on the ruins of a house completely blocked the street and they were obliged=
to
turn back and seek another passage. Thus partially skirting the town they at
last left the houses behind them and approached the firing line, halting
scarcely a quarter of a mile distant from the actual conflict.
As far as the eye could reach, from Nieuport to
the sea at the left, and on toward Ypres at the right of them, the line of
Belgians, French and British steadily faced the foe. Close to where they ha=
lted
the ambulance stood a detachment that had lately retired from the line, the=
ir
places having been taken by reserves. One of the officers told Mr. Merrick =
that
they had been facing bullets since daybreak and the men seemed almost exhau=
sted.
Their faces were blackened by dust and powder and their uniforms torn and
disordered; many stood without caps or coats despite the chill in the air. =
And
yet these fellows were laughing together and chatting as pleasantly as chil=
dren
just released from school. Even those who had wounds made light of their hu=
rts.
Clouds of smoke hovered low in the air; the firing was incessant.
Our girls were thrilled by this spectacle as t=
hey
had never been thrilled before--perhaps never might be again. While they st=
ill
kept their seats, Maurie started with a sudden jerk, made a sharp turn and =
ran
the ambulance across a ridge of solid earth that seemed to be the only one =
of
such character amongst all that waste of sand. It brought them somewhat clo=
ser
to the line but their driver drew up behind a great dune that afforded them
considerable protection.
Fifty yards away was another ambulance with its
wheels buried to the hubs in the loose sand. Red Cross nurses and men weari=
ng
the emblem on their arms and caps were passing here and there, assisting the
injured with "first aid," temporarily bandaging heads, arms and l=
egs
or carrying to the rear upon a stretcher a more seriously injured man. Most=
of
this corps were French; a few were English; some were Belgian. Our friends =
were
the only Americans on the field.
Uncle John's face was very grave as he alighte=
d in
the wake of his girls, who paid no attention to the fighting but at once ra=
n to
assist some of the wounded who came staggering toward the ambulance, some e=
ven creeping
painfully on hands and knees. In all Mr. Merrick's conceptions of the impor=
tant
mission they had undertaken, nothing like the nature of this desperate conf=
lict
had even dawned upon him. He had known that the Red Cross was respected by =
all
belligerents, and that knowledge had led him to feel that his girls would be
fairly safe; but never had he counted on spent bullets, stray shells or the=
mad
rush of a charge.
"Very good!" cried Maurie briskly.
"Here we see what no one else can see. The Red Cross is a fine passpor=
t to
the grand stand of war."
"Come with me--quick!" shouted Ajo, =
his
voice sounding shrill through the din. "I saw a fellow knocked
out--there--over yonder!"
As he spoke he grabbed a stretcher and ran
forward, Maurie following at his heels. Uncle John saw the smoke swallow th=
em
up, saw Beth and Maud each busy with lint, plasters and bandages, saw Patsy
supporting a tall, grizzled warrior who came limping toward the car. Then he
turned and saw Doctor Gys, crouching low against the protecting sand, his
disfigured face working convulsively and every limb trembling as with an ag=
ue.
"Great heavens!" gasped Mr. Merrick,
running toward the doctor. "Are you hit?"
Gys looked up at him appealingly and nodded. <= o:p>
"Where did it strike you? Was it a bullet=
--or
what?"
The doctor wrung his hands, moaning pitifully.
Uncle John bent over him.
"Tell me," he said. "Tell me,
Gys!"
"I--I'm scared, sir--s-s-scared stiff. It=
's
that yellow s-s-s-streak in me; I--I--can't help it, sir." Then he
collapsed, crouching lifelessly close to the sand.
Uncle John was amazed. He drew back with such =
an
expression of scorn that Gys, lying with face upward, rolled over to hide h=
is
own features in the sand. But his form continued to twist and shake
convulsively.
Patsy came up with her soldier, whose gaudy
uniform proclaimed him an officer. He had a rugged, worn face, gray hair and
mustache, stern eyes. His left side was torn and bleeding where a piece of
shell had raked him from shoulder to knee. No moan did he utter as Mr. Merr=
ick
and the girl assisted him to one of the swinging beds, and then Patsy, with
white, set face but steady hands, began at once to cut away the clothing an=
d get
at the wound. This was her first practical experience and she meant to prove
her mettle or perish in the attempt.
Uncle John skipped over to the sand bank and
clutched Gys savagely by the collar.
"Get up!" he commanded. "Here's=
a
man desperately wounded, who needs your best skill--and at once."
Gys pulled himself free and sat up, seeming da=
zed
for the moment. Then he rubbed his head briskly with both hands, collected =
his
nerve and slowly rose to his feet. He cast fearful glances at the firing li=
ne,
but the demand for his surgical skill was a talisman that for a time enable=
d him
to conquer his terror. With frightened backward glances he ran to the ambul=
ance
and made a dive into it as if a pack of wolves was at his heels.
Safely inside, one glance at the wounded man
caused Gys to stiffen suddenly. He became steady and alert and noting that
Patsy had now bared a portion of the gaping wound the doctor seized a therm=
os
flask of hot water and in a moment was removing the clotted blood in a deft=
and
intelligent manner.
Now came Jones and Maurie bearing the man they=
had
picked up. As they set the stretcher down, Uncle John came over.
"Shall we put him inside?" asked Mr.
Merrick.
"No use, I think," panted the Belgia=
n.
"Where's the doctor?" asked Ajo.
Kelsey, who had been busy elsewhere, now
approached and looked at the soldier on the stretcher.
"The man is dead," he said. "He
doesn't need us now."
"Off with him, then!" cried Maurie, =
and
they laid the poor fellow upon the sand and covered him with a cloth.
"Come, then," urged the little chauffeur, excitedly, "lots m=
ore
out there are still alive. We get one quick."
They left in a run in one direction while Kels=
ey,
who had come to the ambulance for supplies, went another way. Mr. Merrick
looked around for the other two girls. Only Maud Stanton was visible through
the smoky haze. Uncle John approached her just as a shell dropped into the =
sand
not fifty feet away. It did not explode but plowed a deep furrow and sent a
shower of sand in every direction.
Maud had just finished dressing a bullet wound=
in
the arm of a young soldier who smiled as he watched her. Then, as she finis=
hed
the work, he bowed low, muttered his thanks, and catching up his gun rushed=
back
into the fray. It was a flesh wound and until it grew more painful he could=
still
fight.
"Where are the Germans?" asked Uncle
John. "I haven't seen one yet."
As he spoke a great cheer rose from a thousand
throats. The line before them wavered an instant and then rushed forward and
disappeared in the smoke of battle.
"Is it a charge, do you think?" asked
Maud, as they stood peering into the haze.
"I--I don't know," he stammered.
"This is so--so bewildering--that it all seems like a dream. Where's B=
eth?"
"I don't know."
"Are you looking for a young lady--a
nurse?" asked a voice beside them. "She's over yonder," he s=
wung
one arm toward the distant sand dunes. The other was in a sling. "She =
has
just given me first aid and sent me to the rear--God bless her!" Then =
he
trailed on, a British Tommy Atkins, while with one accord Maud and Uncle Jo=
hn
moved in the direction he had indicated.
"She mustn't be so reckless," said
Beth's uncle, nervously. "It's bad enough back here, but every step ne=
arer
the firing line doubles the danger."
"I do not agree with you, sir," answ=
ered
Maud quietly. "A man was killed not two paces from me, a little while
ago."
He shuddered and wiped the sweat from his fore=
head
with a handkerchief, but made no reply. They climbed another line of dunes =
and
in the hollow beyond came upon several fallen soldiers, one of whom was moa=
ning
with pain. Maud ran to kneel beside him and in a twinkling had her hypoderm=
ic needle
in his arm.
"Bear it bravely," she said in Frenc=
h.
"The pain will stop in a few minutes and then I'll come and look after
you."
He nodded gratefully, still moaning, and she
hurried to rejoin Mr. Merrick.
"Beth must be in the next hollow," s=
aid
Uncle John as she overtook him, and his voice betrayed his nervous tension.
"I do wish you girls would not be so reckless."
Yes; they found her in the next hollow, where
several men were grouped about her. She was dressing the shattered hand of a
soldier, while two or three others were patiently awaiting her services. Ju=
st
beside her a sweet-faced Sister of Mercy was bending over a dying man,
comforting him with her prayers. Over the ridge of sand could be heard the
"ping" of small arms mingled with the hoarse roar of machine guns.
Another great shout--long and enthusiastic--was borne to their ears.
"That is good," said a tall man stan=
ding
in the group about Beth; "I think, from the sound, we have captured th=
eir
guns."
"I'm sure of it, your Majesty," repl=
ied
the one whom Beth was attending. "There; that will do for the present.=
I
thank you. And now, let us get forward."
As they ran toward the firing Uncle John
exclaimed:
"His Majesty! I wonder who they are?"=
;
"That," said a private soldier, an
accent of pride in his voice, "is our Albert."
"The king?"
"Yes, monsieur; he is the tall one. The o=
ther
is General Mays. I'm sure we have driven the Germans back, and that is luck=
y,
for before our charge they had come too close for comfort."
"The king gave me a ring," said Beth,
displaying it. "He seemed glad I was here to help his soldiers, but wa=
rned
me to keep further away from the line. King Albert speaks English perfectly=
and
told me he loves America better than any other country except his own."=
;
"He has traveled in your country,"
explained the soldier. "But then, our Albert has traveled
everywhere--before he was king."
Betwixt them Maud and Beth quickly applied fir=
st
aid to the others in the group and then Uncle John said:
"Let us take the king's advice and get ba=
ck
to the ambulance. We left only Patsy and Dr. Gys there and I'm sure you gir=
ls
will be needed."
On their return they came upon a man sitting i=
n a
hollow and calmly leaning against a bank of sand, smoking a cigarette. He w=
ore
a gray uniform.
"Ah, a German!" exclaimed Maud. She =
ran
up to him and asked: "Are you hurt?"
He glanced at her uniform, nodded, and pointed=
to
his left foot. It had nearly all been torn away below the ankle. A handkerc=
hief
was twisted about the leg, forming a rude tourniquet just above the wound, =
and
this had served to stay the flow of blood.
"Run quickly for the stretcher," said
Maud to Uncle John. "I will stay with him until your return."
Without a word he hurried away, Beth following.
They found, on reaching the ambulance, that Maurie and Jones had been busy.
Five of the swinging beds were already occupied.
"Save the other one," said Beth.
"Maud has found a German." Then she hurried to assist Patsy, as t=
he
two doctors had their hands full.
Jones and Maurie started away with the stretch=
er,
Uncle John guiding them to the dunes where Maud was waiting, and presently =
they
had the wounded German comfortably laid in the last bed.
"Now, then, back to the ship," said =
Gys.
"We have in our care two lives, at least, that can only be saved by pr=
ompt
operations."
Maurie got into the driver's seat.
"Careful, now!" cautioned Jones, bes=
ide
him.
"Of course," replied the Belgian,
starting the motor; "there are many sores inside. But if they get a jo=
lt,
now and then, it will serve to remind them that they are suffering for their
country."
He began to back up, for the sand ahead was too
deep for a turn, and the way he managed the huge car along that narrow ridge
aroused the admiration of Ajo, who alone was able to witness the marvelous =
performance.
Slowly, with many turns, they backed to the road, where Maurie swung the
ambulance around and then stopped with a jerk that drew several groans from=
the
interior of the car.
"What's wrong?" asked Mr. Merrick,
sticking his head from a window.
"We nearly ran over a man," answered
Jones, climbing down from his seat. "Our front wheels are right against
him, but Maurie stopped in time."
Lying flat upon his face, diagonally across the
roadway, was the form of a man in the blue-and-red uniform of the Belgian a=
rmy.
Maurie backed the ambulance a yard or so as Maud sprang out and knelt beside
the prostrate form.
The firing, which had lulled for a few minutes,
suddenly redoubled in fury. There rose a wild, exultant shout, gradually
drawing nearer.
"Quick!" shouted Gys, trembling and
wringing his hands. "The Germans are charging. Drive on, man--drive
on!"
But Maurie never moved.
"The Germans are charging, sure enough,&q=
uot;
he answered, as the line of retreating Belgians became visible. "But t=
hey
must stop here, for we've blocked the road."
All eyes but those of Maud were now turned upon
the fray, which was practically a hand to hand conflict. Nearer and nearer =
came
the confused mass of warriors and then, scarce a hundred yards away, it hal=
ted
and the Belgians stood firm.
"He isn't dead," said Maud, coming to
the car. "Help me to put him inside."
"There is no room," protested Gys. <= o:p>
The girl looked at him scornfully.
"We will make room," she replied.
A bullet shattered a pane of glass just beside=
the
crouching doctor, but passed on through an open window without injuring any=
one.
In fact, bullets were singing around them with a freedom that made others t=
han Dr.
Gys nervous. It was chubby little Uncle John who helped Jones carry the wou=
nded
man to the ambulance, where they managed to stretch him upon the floor. This
arrangement sent Patsy to the front seat outside, with Maurie and Ajo, alth=
ough
her uncle strongly protested that she had no right to expose her precious l=
ife
so wantonly.
There was little time for argument, however. E=
ven
as the girl was climbing to her seat the line of Belgians broke and came
pouring toward them. Maurie was prompt in starting the car and the next mom=
ent
the ambulance was rolling swiftly along the smooth highway in the direction=
of
Dunkirk and the sounds of fray grew faint behind them.
"I never realized," said Maud,
delightedly, "what a strictly modern, professional hospital ship Uncle
John has made of this, until we put it to practical use. I am sure it is be=
tter
than those makeshifts we observed at Calais, and more comfortable than those
crowded hospitals on land. Every convenience is at our disposal and if our
patients do not recover rapidly it will be because their condition is
desperate."
She had just come on deck after a long and try=
ing
session in assisting Doctors Gys and Kelsey to care for the injured, a sess=
ion
during which Beth and Patsy had also stood nobly to their gruesome task. Th=
ere
were eleven wounded, altogether, in their care, and although some of these =
were
in a critical condition the doctors had insisted that the nurses needed res=
t.
"It is Dr. Gys who deserves credit for
fitting the ship," replied Mr. Merrick, modestly, to Maud's enthusiast=
ic
comment, "and Ajo is responsible for the ship itself, which seems
admirably suited to our purpose. By the way, how is Gys behaving now? Is he
still shaking with fear?"
"No, he seems to have recovered his nerve.
Isn't it a terrible affliction?"
"Cowardice? Well, my dear, it is certainl=
y an
unusual affliction in this country and in these times. I have been amazed
to-day at the courage I have witnessed. These Belgians are certainly a brave
lot."
"But no braver than the German we brought
with us," replied Maud thoughtfully. "One would almost think he h=
ad
no sensation, yet he must be suffering terribly. The doctor will amputate t=
he
remnants of his foot in an hour or so, but the man positively refuses to ta=
ke
an anaesthetic."
"Does he speak English or French?" <= o:p>
"No; only German. But Captain Carg
understands German and so he has been acting as our interpreter."
"How about the Belgian we picked up on the
road?"
"He hasn't recovered consciousness yet. H=
e is
wounded in the back and in trying to get to the rear became insensible from
loss of blood."
"From what I saw I wouldn't suppose any
Belgian could be wounded in the back," remarked Uncle John doubtfully.=
"It was a shell," she said, "and
perhaps exploded behind him. It's a bad wound, Dr. Gys says, but if he rega=
ins
strength he may recover."
During this conversation Patsy Doyle was lying=
in
her stateroom below and crying bitterly, while her cousin Beth strove to so=
othe
her. All unused to such horrors as she had witnessed that day, the girl had=
managed
to retain her nerve by sheer force of will until the Red Cross party had
returned to the ship and extended first aid to the wounded; but the moment =
Dr.
Gys dismissed her she broke down completely.
Beth was no more accustomed to bloodshed than =
her
cousin, but she had anticipated such scenes as they had witnessed, inasmuch=
as
her year of training as nurse had prepared her for them. She had also been a
close student of the daily press and from her reading had gleaned a knowled=
ge of
the terrible havoc wrought by this great war. Had Patsy not given way, perh=
aps
Beth might have done so herself, and really it was Maud Stanton who bore the
ordeal with the most composure.
After a half hour on deck Maud returned to the
hospital section quite refreshed, and proceeded to care for the patients. S=
he
alone assisted Gys and Kelsey to amputate the German's foot, an operation t=
he
man bore splendidly, quite unaware, however, that they had applied local an=
aesthetics
to dull the pain. Dr. Gys was a remarkably skillful surgeon and he gave him=
self
no rest until every one of the eleven had received such attention as his wo=
unds
demanded. Even Kelsey felt the strain by that time and as Maud expressed her
intention of remaining to minister to the wants of the crippled soldiers, t=
he
two doctors went on deck for a smoke and a brief relaxation.
By this time Beth had quieted Patsy, mainly by
letting her have her cry out, and now brought her on deck to join the others
and get the fresh air. So quickly had events followed one another on this
fateful day that it was now only four o'clock in the afternoon. None of them
had thought of luncheon, so the ship's steward now brought tea and sandwich=
es
to those congregated on deck.
As they sat together in a group, drinking tea =
and
discussing the exciting events of the day, little Maurie came sauntering to=
ward
them and removed his cap.
"Your pardon," said he, "but--a=
re
the wounded all cared for?"
"As well as we are able to care for them =
at
present," answered Beth. "And let me thank you, Jakob Maurie--let=
us
all thank you--for the noble work you did for us to-day."
"Pah! it was nothing," said he, shif=
ting
from one foot to another. "I enjoyed it, mamselle. It was such fun to =
dive
into the battle and pull out the wounded. It helped them, you see, and it g=
ave
us a grand excitement. Otherwise, had I not gone with you, I would be as
ignorant as all in Dunkirk still are, for the poor people do not yet know w=
hat has
happened at the front."
"We hardly know ourselves what has
happened," said Uncle John. "We can hear the boom of guns yet, ev=
en
at this distance, and we left the battle line flowing back and forth like t=
he
waves of the ocean. Have a cup of tea, Maurie?"
The man hesitated.
"I do not like to disturb anyone," he
said slowly, "but if one of the young ladies is disengaged I would be
grateful if she looks at my arm."
"Your arm!" exclaimed Beth, regarding
him wonderingly as he stood before her.
Maurie smiled.
"It is hardly worth mentioning, mamselle,=
but
a bullet--"
"Take off your coat," she commanded,
rising from her seat to assist him.
Maurie complied. His shirt was stained with bl=
ood.
Beth drew out her scissors and cut away the sleeve of his left arm. A bullet
had passed directly through the flesh, but without harming bone or muscle. =
"Why didn't you tell us before?" she
asked reproachfully.
"It amounted to so little, beside the oth=
er
hurts you had to attend," he answered. "I am shamed, mamselle, th=
at I
came to you at all. A little water and a cloth will make it all right."=
;
Patsy had already gone for the water and in a =
few
minutes Beth was deftly cleansing the wound.
"How did it happen, Maurie?" asked
Jones. "I was with you most of the time and noticed nothing wrong.
Besides, you said nothing about it."
"It was on the road, just as we picked up
that fallen soldier with the hole in his back. The fight jumped toward us
pretty quick, you remember, and while I sat at the wheel the bullet came. I
knew when it hit me, but I also knew I could move my arm, so what did it
matter? I told myself to wait till we got to the ship. Had we stayed there
longer, we might all have stopped bullets--and some bullets might have stop=
ped
us." He grinned, as if the aphorism amused him, and added: "To kn=
ow
when to run is the perfection of courage."
"Does it hurt?" asked Uncle John, as
Beth applied the lint and began winding the bandage.
"It reminds me it is there, monsieur; but=
I
will be ready for another trip to-morrow. Thank you, mamselle. Instead of t=
he
tea, I would like a little brandy."
"Give him some in the tea," suggested
Gys, noting that Maurie swayed a little. "Sit down, man, and be
comfortable. That's it. I'd give a million dollars for your nerve."
"Have you so much money?" asked Maur=
ie.
"No."
"Then I cannot see that you lack nerve,&q=
uot;
said the little Belgian thoughtfully. "I was watching you to-day, M'si=
eur
Doctor, and I believe what you lack is courage."
Gys stared so hard at him with the one good eye
that even Maurie became embarrassed and turned away his head. Sipping his t=
ea
and brandy he presently resumed, in a casual tone:
"Never have I indulged in work of more
interest than this. We go into the thick of the fight, yet are we safe from
harm. We do good to both sides, because the men who do the fighting are not=
to
blame for the war, at all. The leaders of politics say to the generals: 'We
have declared war; go and fight.' The generals say to the soldiers: 'We are
told to fight, so come on. We do not know why, but it is our duty, because =
it
is our profession. So go and die, or get shot to pieces, or lose some arms =
and
legs, as it may happen.' The business of the soldiers is to obey; they must
back up the policies of their country, right or wrong. But do those who send
them into danger ever get hurt? Not to the naked eye."
"Why, you're quite a philosopher,
Maurie," said Patsy.
"It is true," agreed the Belgian.
"But philosophy is like courage--easy to assume. We strut and talk big=
; we
call the politicians sharks, the soldiers fools; but does it do any good? T=
he
war will go on; the enemy will destroy our homes, separate our families, ta=
ke
away our bread and leave us to starve; but we have the privilege to
philosophize, if we like. For myself, I thank them for nothing!"
"I suppose you grieve continually for your
wife," said Patsy.
"Not so much that, mamselle, but I know s=
he
is grieving for me," he replied.
"As soon as we find time," continued=
the
girl, "we intend to search for your wife and children. I am sure we can
find them for you."
Maurie moved uneasily in his chair.
"I beg you to take no trouble on my
account," said he. "With the Red Cross you have great work to
accomplish. What is the despair of one poor Walloon to you?"
"It is a great deal to us, Maurie,"
returned the girl, earnestly. "You have been a friend in need; without=
you
we could not have made our dash to the front to-day. We shall try to repay =
you
by finding your wife."
He was silent, but his troubled look told of b=
usy
thoughts.
"What does she look like?" inquired
Beth. "Have you her photograph?"
"No; she would not make a good picture,
mamselle," he answered with a sigh. "Clarette is large; she is fa=
t;
she has a way of scowling when one does not bring in more wood than the fire
can eat up; and she is very religious."
"With that description I am sure we can f=
ind
her," cried Patsy enthusiastically.
He seemed disturbed.
"If you please," said he plaintively,
"Clarette is quite able to take care of herself. She has a strong
will."
"But if you know she is safe it will reli=
eve
your anxiety," suggested Beth. "You told us yesterday you had been
searching everywhere for her."
"If I said everywhere, I was wrong, for p=
oor
Clarette must be somewhere. And since yesterday I have been thinking with m=
ore
deliberation, and I have decided," he added, his tone becoming
confidential, "that it is better I do not find Clarette just now. It m=
ight
destroy my usefulness to the Red Cross."
"But your children!" protested Patsy.
"Surely you cannot rest at ease with your two dear children wandering
about, in constant danger."
"To be frank, mamselle," said he,
"they are not my children. I had a baby, but it was killed, as I told =
you.
The boy and girl I have mentioned were born when Clarette was the wife of
another man--a blacksmith at Dinant--who had a sad habit of beating her.&qu=
ot;
"But you love the little ones, I am
sure."
He shook his head.
"They have somewhat the temper of their
father, the blacksmith. I took them when I took Clarette--just as I took the
silver spoons and the checkered tablespread she brought with her--but now t=
hat
a cruel fate has separated me from the children, perhaps it is all for the
best."
The doctor gave a snort of disgust, while Ajo
smiled. The girls were too astonished to pursue the conversation, but now
realized that Maurie's private affairs did not require their good offices to
untangle. Uncle John was quite amused at the Belgian's confession and was t=
he
only one to reply.
"Fate often seems cruel when she is in her
happiest mood," said he. "Perhaps, Maurie, your Clarette will com=
e to
you without your seeking her, for all Belgium seems headed toward France ju=
st
now. What do you think? Will the Germans capture Dunkirk?"
The man brightened visibly at this turn in the
conversation.
"Not to-day, sir; not for days to come,&q=
uot;
he replied. "The French cannot afford to lose Dunkirk, and by to-morrow
they will pour an irresistible horde against the German invader. If we stay
here, we are sure to remain in the rear of the firing line."
While the others were conversing on deck Maud
Stanton was ministering to the maimed victims of the war's cruelty, who tos=
sed
and moaned below. The main cabin and its accompanying staterooms had been
fitted with all the conveniences of a modern hospital. Twenty-two could eas=
ily
be accommodated in the rooms and a dozen more in the cabin, so that the ele=
ven
now in their charge were easily cared for. Of these, only three had been
seriously injured. One was the German, who, however, was now sleeping sound=
ly
under the influence of the soothing potion that followed his operation. The
man's calmness and iron nerve indicated that he would make a rapid recovery.
Another was the young Belgian soldier picked up in the roadway near the fir=
ing
line, who had been shot in the back and had not yet recovered consciousness.
Dr. Gys had removed several bits of exploded shell and dressed the wound,
shaking his head discouragingly. But since the young man was still breathin=
g,
with a fairly regular respiration, no attempt was made to restore him to hi=
s senses.
The third seriously injured was a French serge=
ant
whose body was literally riddled with shrapnel. A brief examination had
convinced Gys that the case was hopeless.
"He may live until morning," was the
doctor's report as he calmly looked down upon the moaning sergeant, "b=
ut
no longer. Meanwhile, we must prevent his suffering."
This he accomplished by means of powerful drug=
s.
The soldier soon lay in a stupor, awaiting the end, and nothing more could =
be
done for him.
Of the others, two Belgians with bandaged heads
were playing a quiet game of écarté in a corner of the cabin,
while another with a slight wound in his leg was stretched upon a couch,
reading a book. A young French officer who had lost three fingers of his ha=
nd
was cheerfully conversing with a comrade whose scalp had been torn by a bul=
let
and who declared that in two days he would return to the front. The others =
Maud
found asleep in their berths or lying quietly to ease their pain. It was re=
markable,
however, how little suffering was caused these men by flesh wounds, once th=
ey
were properly dressed and the patients made comfortable with food and warmth
and the assurance of proper care.
So it was that Maud found her duties not at all
arduous this evening. Indeed, the sympathy she felt for these brave men was=
so
strong that it wearied her more than the actual work of nursing them. A sip=
of
water here, a cold compress there, the administration of medicines to keep =
down
or prevent fever, little attentions of this character were all that were
required. Speaking French fluently, she was able to converse with all those
under her charge and all seemed eager to relate to their beautiful nurse th=
eir
experiences, hopes and griefs. Soon she realized she was beginning to learn
more of the true nature of war than she had ever gleaned from the
correspondents of the newspapers.
When dinner was served in the forward cabin Be=
th
relieved Maud and after the evening meal Dr. Gys made another inspection of=
his
patients. All seemed doing well except the young Belgian. The condition of =
the
French sergeant was still unchanged. Some of those with minor injuries were=
ordered
on deck for a breath of fresh air.
Patsy relieved Beth at midnight and Maud came =
on
duty again at six o'clock, having had several hours of refreshing sleep. She
found Patsy trembling with nervousness, for the sergeant had passed away an
hour previous and the horror of the event had quite upset the girl.
"Oh, it is all so unnecessary!" she
wailed as she threw herself into Maud's arms.
"We must steel ourselves to such things,
dear," said Maud, soothing her, "for they will be of frequent
occurrence, I fear. And we must be grateful and glad that we were able to
relieve the poor man's anguish and secure for him a peaceful end."
"I know," answered Patsy with a litt=
le
sob, "but it's so dreadful. Oh, what a cruel, hateful thing war is!&qu=
ot;
From papers found on the sergeant Uncle John w=
as
able to notify his relatives of his fate. His home was in a little village =
not
fifty miles away and during the day a brother arrived to take charge of the
remains and convey them to their last resting place.
The following morning Captain Carg was notifie=
d by
the authorities to withdraw the Arabella to an anchorage farther out in the
bay, and thereafter it became necessary to use the two launches for interco=
urse
between the ship and the city. Continuous cannonading could be heard from t=
he
direction of Nieuport, Dixmude and Ypres, and it was evident that the battle
had doubled in intensity at all points, owing to heavy reinforcements being
added to both sides. But, as Maurie had predicted, the Allies were able to =
hold
the foe at bay and keep them from advancing a step farther.
Uncle John had not been at all satisfied with =
that
first day's experience at the front. He firmly believed it was unwise, to t=
he
verge of rashness, to allow the girls to place themselves in so dangerous a=
position.
During a serious consultation with Jones, Kelsey, Captain Carg and Dr. Gys,=
the
men agreed upon a better plan of procedure.
"The three nurses have plenty to do in
attending to the patients in our hospital," said Gys, "and when t=
he
ship has its full quota of wounded they will need assistance or they will b=
reak
down under the strain. Our young ladies are different from the professional
nurses; they are so keenly sensitive that they suffer from sympathy with ev=
ery
patient that comes under their care."
"I do not favor their leaving the ship,&q=
uot;
remarked Dr. Kelsey, the mate. "There seems to be plenty of field work=
ers
at the front, supplied by the governments whose troops are fighting." =
"Therefore," added Jones, "we m=
en
must assume the duty of driving the ambulances and bringing back the wounde=
d we
are able to pick up. As Maurie is too stiff from his wound to drive to-day,=
I
shall undertake the job myself. I know the way, now, and am confident I sha=
ll
get along nicely. Who will go with me?"
"I will, of course," replied Kelsey
quietly.
"Doctor Gys will be needed on the ship,&q=
uot;
asserted Uncle John.
"Yes, it will be best to leave me here,&q=
uot;
said Gys. "I'm too great a coward to go near the firing line again. It
destroys my usefulness, and Kelsey can administer first aid as well as I.&q=
uot;
"In that case, I think I shall take the s=
mall
ambulance to-day," decided Ajo. "With Dr. Kelsey and one of the
sailors we shall manage very well."
A launch took them ashore, where the ambulances
stood upon the dock. Maurie had admitted his inability to drive, but asked =
to
be allowed to go into the town. So he left the ship with the others and
disappeared for the day.
Ajo took the same route he had covered before,=
in
the direction of Nieuport, but could not get within five miles of the town,
which was now held by the Germans. From Furnes to the front the roads were
packed with reinforcements and wagon trains bearing ammunition and supplies,
and further progress with the ambulance was impossible.
However, a constant stream of wounded flowed to
the rear, some with first aid bandages covering their injuries, others as y=
et
uncared for. Kelsey chose those whom he considered most in need of surgical
care or skillful nursing, and by noon the ambulance was filled to overflowi=
ng. It
was Jones who advised taking none of the fatally injured, as the army surge=
ons
paid especial attention to these. The Americans could be of most practical =
use,
the boy considered, by taking in charge such as had a chance to recover. So
nine more patients were added to the ship's colony on this occasion, all be=
ing
delivered to the care of Dr. Gys without accident or delay--a fact that
rendered Ajo quite proud of his skillful driving.
While the ambulance was away the girls quietly
passed from berth to berth, encouraging and caring for their wounded. It was
surprising how interested they became in the personality of these soldiers,=
for
each man was distinctive either in individuality or the character of his in=
jury,
and most of them were eager to chat with their nurses and anxious for news =
of
the battle.
During the morning the young Belgian who had l=
ain
until now in a stupor, recovered consciousness. He had moaned once or twice,
drawing Maud to his side, but hearing a different sound from him she approa=
ched
the berth where he lay, to find his eyes wide open. Gradually he turned the=
m upon
his nurse, as if feeling her presence, and after a moment of observation he
sighed and then smiled wanly.
"Still on earth?" he said in French.=
"I am so glad," she replied. "Y=
ou
have been in dreamland a long time."
He tried to move and it brought a moan to his
lips.
"Don't stir," she counseled warningl=
y;
"you are badly wounded."
He was silent for a time, staring at the ceili=
ng.
She held some water to his lips and he drank eagerly. Finally he said in a
faint voice:
"I remember, now. I had turned to reload =
and
it hit me in the back. A bullet, mademoiselle?"
"Part of a shell."
"Ah, I understand.... I tried to get to t=
he
rear. The pain was terrible. No one seemed to notice me. At last I fell,
and--then I slept. I thought it was the end."
She bathed his forehead, saying:
"You must not talk any more at present. H=
ere
comes the doctor to see you."
Gys, busy in the cabin, had heard their voices=
and
now came to look at his most interesting patient. The soldier seemed about
twenty years of age; he was rather handsome, with expressive eyes and featu=
res
bearing the stamp of culture. Already they knew his name, by means of an id=
entification
card found upon him, as well as a small packet of letters carefully pinned =
in
an inner pocket of his coat. These last were all addressed in the same
handwriting, which was undoubtedly feminine, to Andrew Denton. The card sta=
ted
that Andrew Denton, private, was formerly an insurance agent at Antwerp.
Doctor Gys had rather impatiently awaited the
young man's return to consciousness that he might complete his examination.=
He
now devoted the next half hour to a careful diagnosis of Denton's injuries.=
By
this time the patient was suffering intense pain and a hypodermic injection=
of morphine
was required to relieve him. When at last he was quietly drowsing the doctor
called Maud aside to give her instructions.
"Watch him carefully," said he,
"and don't let him suffer. Keep up the morphine."
"There is no hope, then?" she asked.=
"Not the slightest. He may linger for
days--even weeks, if we sustain his strength--but recovery is impossible. T=
hat
bit of shell tore a horrible hole in the poor fellow and all we can do is k=
eep
him comfortable until the end. Without the morphine he would not live twelv=
e hours."
"Shall I let him talk?"
"If he wishes to. His lungs are not invol=
ved,
so it can do him no harm."
But Andrew Denton did not care to talk any more
that day. He wanted to think, and lay quietly until Beth came on duty. To h=
er
he gave a smile and a word of thanks and again lapsed into thoughtful silen=
ce.
When Ajo brought the new consignment of wounde=
d to
the ship the doctors and nurses found themselves pretty busy for a time. Wi=
th
wounds to dress and one or two slight operations to perform, the afternoon
passed swiftly away. The old patients must not be neglected, either, so Cap=
tain
Carg said he would sit with the German and look after him, as he was able to
converse with the patient in his own tongue.
The German was resting easily to-day but prove=
d as
glum and uncommunicative as ever. That did not worry the captain, who gave =
the man
a cigarette and, when it was nonchalantly accepted, lighted his own pipe.
Together they sat in silence and smoked, the German occupying an easy chair=
and
resting his leg upon a stool, for he had refused to lie in a berth. Through=
the
open window the dull boom of artillery could constantly be heard. After an =
hour
or so:
"A long fight," remarked the captain=
in
German.
The other merely looked at him, contemplativel=
y.
Carg stared for five minutes at the bandaged foot. Finally:
"Hard luck," said he.
This time the German nodded, looking at the fo=
ot
also.
"In America," resumed the captain,
puffing slowly, "they make fine artificial feet. Walk all right. Look
natural."
"Vienna," said the German.
"Yes, I suppose so." Another pause. =
"Name?" asked the German, with start=
ling
abruptness. But the other never winked.
"Carg. I'm a sailor. Captain of this ship.
Live in Sangoa, when ashore."
"Sangoa?"
"Island in South Seas."
The wounded man reached for another cigarette =
and
lighted it.
"Carg," he repeated, musingly.
"German?"
"Why, my folks were, I believe. I've
relations in Germany, yet. Munich. Visited them once, when a boy. Mother's =
name
was Elbl. The Cargs lived next door to the Elbls. But they've lost track of=
me,
and I of them. Nothing in common, you see."
The German finished his cigarette, looking at =
the
captain at times reflectively. Carg, feeling his biography had not been
appreciated, had lapsed into silence. At length the wounded man began feeli=
ng
in his breast pocket--an awkward operation because the least action disturb=
ed the
swathed limb--and presently drew out a leather card case. With much deliber=
ation
he abstracted a card and handed it to the captain, who put on his spectacles
and read:
"Otto Elbl.=
12th
Uhlans"
"Oh," he said, looking up to examine=
the
German anew. "Otto Elbl of Munich?"
"Yes."
"H-m. Number 121 Friedrichstrasse?" =
"Yes."
"I didn't see you when I visited your fam=
ily.
They said you were at college. Your father was William Elbl, my mother's
brother."
The German stretched out his hand and gripped =
the
fist of the captain.
"Cousins," he said.
Carg nodded, meditating.
"To be sure," he presently returned;
"cousins. Have another cigarette."
That evening the captain joined Dr. Gys on dec=
k.
"That German, Lieutenant Elbl," he
began.
"Oh, is that his name?" asked Gys. <= o:p>
"Yes. Will he get well?"
"Certainly. What is a foot, to a man like
him? But his soldiering days are past."
"Perhaps that's fortunate," returned=
the
captain, ruminatively. "When I was a boy, his father was
burgomaster--mayor--in Munich. People said he was well-to-do. The Germans a=
re
thrifty, so I suppose there's still money in the Elbl family."
"Money will do much to help reconcile the=
man
to the loss of his foot," declared the doctor.
"Will he suffer much pain, while it is
getting well?"
"Not if I can help it. The fellow bears p=
ain
with wonderful fortitude. When I was in Yucatan, and had to slash my face to
get out the poisoned darts of the cactus, I screamed till you could have he=
ard
me a mile. And I had no anaesthetic to soothe me. Your lieutenant never
whimpered or cringed with his mangled foot and he refused morphine when I
operated on it. But I fooled him. I hate to see a brave man suffer. I stuck=
a
needle just above the wound when he wasn't looking, and I've doped his medi=
cine
ever since."
"Thank you," said Carg; "he's my
cousin."
In the small hours of the next morning, while
Patsy was on duty in the hospital section, the young Belgian became wakeful=
and
restless. She promptly administered a sedative and sat by his bedside. Afte=
r a
little his pain was eased and he became quiet, but he lay there with wide o=
pen eyes.
"Can I do anything more for you?" she
asked.
"If you would be so kind," replied
Andrew Denton.
"Well?"
"Please read to me some letters you will = find in my pocket. I cannot read them myself, and--they will comfort me." <= o:p>
Patsy found the packet of letters.
"The top one first," he said eagerly.
"Read them all!"
She opened the letter reluctantly. It was
addressed in a dainty, female hand and the girl had the uncomfortable feeli=
ng
that she was about to pry into personal relations of a delicate character. =
"Your sweetheart?" she asked gently.=
"Yes, indeed; my sweetheart and my
wife."
"Oh, I see. And have you been married
long?" He seemed a mere boy.
"Five months, but for the last two I have=
not
seen her."
The letters were dated at Charleroi and each o=
ne
began: "My darling husband." Patsy read the packet through, from
first to last, her eyes filling with tears at times as she noted the rare
devotion and passionate longing of the poor young wife and realized that the
boyish husband was even now dying, a martyr to his country's cause. The let=
ters
were signed "Elizabeth." In one was a small photograph of a sweet,
dark-eyed girl whom she instantly knew to be the bereaved wife.
"And does she still live at Charleroi?&qu=
ot;
Patsy asked.
"I hope so, mademoiselle; with her mother.
The Germans now occupy the town, but you will notice the last letter states
that all citizens are treated courteously and with much consideration, so I=
do
not fear for her."
The reading of the letters, in conjunction with
the opiate, seemed to comfort him, for presently he fell asleep. With a hea=
vy heart
the girl left him to attend to her other patients and at three o'clock Ajo =
came
in and joined her, to relieve the tedium of the next three hours. The boy k=
new
nothing of nursing, but he could help Patsy administer potions and change
compresses and his presence was a distinct relief to her.
The girl was supposed to sleep from six
o'clock--at which time she was relieved from duty--until one in the afterno=
on,
but the next morning at eight she walked into the forward salon, where her
friends were at breakfast, and sat down beside Uncle John.
"I could not sleep," said she,
"because I am so worried over Andrew Denton."
"That is foolish, my dear," answered=
Mr.
Merrick, affectionately patting the hand she laid in his. "The doctor =
says
poor Denton cannot recover. If you're going to take to heart all the sad
incidents we encounter on this hospital ship, it will not only ruin your
usefulness but destroy your happiness."
"Exactly so," agreed Gys, coming into
the salon in time to overhear this remark. "A nurse should be sympathe=
tic,
but impersonally so."
"Denton has been married but five
months," said Patsy. "I have seen his wife's picture--she's a dear
little girl!--and her letters to him are full of love and longing. She does=
n't
know, of course, of his--his accident--or that he--he--" Her voice bro=
ke
with a sob she could not repress.
"M-m," purred Uncle John; "where
does she live, this young wife?"
"At Charleroi."
"Well; the Germans are there."
"Yes, Uncle. But don't you suppose they w=
ould
let her come to see her dying husband?"
"A young girl, unprotected? Would it
be--safe?"
"The Germans," remarked Captain Carg
from his end of the table, "are very decent people."
"Ahem!" said Uncle John.
"Some of them, I've no doubt, are quite
respectable," observed Ajo; "but from all reports the rank and fi=
le,
in war time, are--rather unpleasant to meet."
"Precisely," agreed Uncle John. &quo=
t;I
think, Patsy dear, it will be best to leave this Belgian girl in ignorance =
of
her husband's fate."
"I, myself, have a wife," quoth litt=
le
Maurie, with smug assurance, "but she is not worrying about me, wherev=
er
she may be; nor do I feel especial anxiety for Clarette. A woman takes what
comes--especially if she is obliged to."
Patsy regarded him indignantly.
"There are many kinds of women," she
began.
"Thank heaven!" exclaimed Maurie, and
then she realized how futile it was to argue with him.
A little later she walked on deck with Uncle J=
ohn
and pleaded her cause earnestly. It was said by those who knew him well that
the kindly little gentleman was never able to refuse Patsy anything for lon=
g,
and he was himself so well aware of this weakness that he made a supreme ef=
fort
to resist her on this occasion.
"You and I," said she, "would h=
ave
no trouble in passing the German lines. We are strictly neutral, you know, =
we
Americans, and our passports and the Red Cross will take us anywhere in
safety."
"It won't do, my dear," he replied.
"You've already been in danger enough for one war. I shudder even now =
as I
think of those bullets and shells at Nieuport."
"But we can pass through at some place wh=
ere
they are not fighting."
"Show me such a place!"
"And distances are very small in this par=
t of
the Continent. We could get to Charleroi in a day, and return the next day =
with
Mrs. Denton."
"Impossible."
"The doctor says he may live for several
days, but it may be only for hours. If you could see his face light up when=
he
speaks of her, you would realize what a comfort her presence would be to
him."
"I understand that, Patsy. But can't you =
see,
my dear, that we're not able to do everything for those poor wounded soldie=
rs?
You have twenty in your charge now, and by to-night there may be possibly a
dozen more. Many of them have wives at home, but--"
"But all are not dying, Uncle--and after =
only
five months of married life, three of which they passed together. Here, at
least, is one brave heart we may comfort, one poor woman who will be ever
grateful for our generous kindness."
Mr. Merrick coughed. He wiped his eyes and blew
his nose on his pink bordered handkerchief. But he made no promise.
Patsy left him and went to Ajo.
"See here," she said; "I'm goin=
g to
Charleroi in an hour."
"It's a day's journey, Patsy."
"I mean I'm going to start in an hour. Wi=
ll
you go with me?"
"What does Uncle John say?" he inqui=
red
cautiously.
"I don't care what he says. I'm going!&qu=
ot;
she persisted, her eyes blazing with determination.
The boy whistled softly, studying her face. Th=
en
he walked across the deck to Mr. Merrick.
"Patsy is rampant, sir," said he.
"She won't be denied. Go and argue with her, please."
"I have argued," returned Uncle John
weakly.
"Well, argue again."
The little man cast a half frightened, half
reproachful glance at his niece.
"Let's go and consult the doctor," he
exclaimed, and together Uncle John and Ajo went below.
To their surprise, Gys supported Patsy's plea.=
"He's a fine fellow, this Denton," s=
aid
he, "and rather above the average soldier. Moreover, his case is a pit=
iful
one. I'll agree to keep him alive until his wife comes."
Uncle John looked appealingly at Ajo.
"How on earth can we manage to cross the
lines?" he asked.
"Take one of our launches," said the
boy.
"Skim the coast to Ostend, and you'll avo=
id
danger altogether."
"That's the idea!" exclaimed the doc=
tor
approvingly. "Why, it's the easiest thing in the world, sir."
Uncle John began to feel slightly reassured. <= o:p>
"Who will run the launch?" he inquir=
ed.
"I'll give you the captain and one of the
men," said the boy. "Carg's an old traveler and knows more than he
appears to. Besides, he speaks German. We can't spare very many, you
understand, and the ambulances will keep Maurie and me pretty busy. Patsy w=
ill
be missed, too, from the hospital ward, so you must hurry back."
"Two days ought to accomplish our
object," said Uncle John.
"Easily," agreed Gys. "I've
arranged for a couple of girls from the town to come and help us to-day, fo=
r I
must save the strength of my expert nurses as much as possible, and I'll ke=
ep
them with us until you return. The French girls are not experienced in nurs=
ing,
but I'll take Miss Patsy's watch myself, so we shall get along all right.&q=
uot;
Mr. Merrick and Jones returned to the deck.
"Well?" demanded Patsy.
"Get ready," said Uncle John; "=
we
leave in an hour."
"For Charleroi?"
"Of course; unless you've changed your
mind."
Patsy flew to her stateroom.
The launch in which they embarked bore the Red
Cross on its sides, and an American flag floated from the bow and a Red Cro=
ss
flag from the stern. Its four occupants wore the Red Cross uniforms. Yet th=
ree
miles out of Dunkirk a shot came singing across their prow and they were ob=
liged
to lay to until a British man-of-war could lower a boat to investigate their
errand. The coast is very shallow in this section, which permits boats of o=
nly
the lightest draught to navigate in-shore, but the launch was able to skim =
over
the surface at twelve miles an hour.
"This is pleasant!" grumbled Uncle J=
ohn,
as they awaited the approach of the warship's boat. "Our very appearan=
ce
ought to insure us safe conduct, but I suppose that in these times every cr=
aft
is regarded with suspicion."
The boat came alongside.
"Where are you going?" demanded an
officer, gruffly.
"To Ostend."
"On what business?"
"Our own," replied Mr. Merrick.
"Be respectful, sir, or I'll arrest your
entire outfit," warned the officer.
"You'll do nothing of the sort,"
declared Mr. Merrick. "You'll examine our papers, apologize for your
interference and row back to your ship. We have the authority of the Red Cr=
oss
to go wherever our duty calls us, and moreover we're American citizens. Per=
mit
me to add that we're in a hurry."
The officer turned first white and then red, b=
ut
he appreciated the force of the argument.
"Your papers!" he commanded.
Uncle John produced them and waited patiently =
for
their inspection, which was very deliberate. Finally the officer returned t=
hem
and gave the order to his men to row back to the ship.
"One moment!" called Uncle John.
"You haven't made the apology."
There was no answer. The boat moved swiftly aw=
ay
and at a gesture from Captain Carg the sailor started the launch again.
"I wonder why it is," mused Mr. Merr=
ick,
"that there is always this raspy feeling when the English meet America=
ns.
On the surface we're friendly enough and our governments always express in
diplomatic relations the most cordial good will; but I've always noticed in=
the
English individual an undercurrent of antipathy for Americans that cannot be
disguised. As a race the English hate us, I'm positive, and I wonder why?&q=
uot;
"I believe you're wrong, Uncle,"
remarked Patsy. "A few of the British may individually dislike us, but=
I'm
sure the two nations are not antagonistic. Why should they be?"
"Yorktown," muttered the captain.
"I don't believe it," declared the g=
irl.
"They're too good sportsmen to bear grudges."
"All the same," persisted Uncle John,
"the English have never favored us as the French have, or even the
Russians."
From Dunkirk to Ostend, by the coast line, is =
only
some twenty-five miles, yet although they started at a little after eleven
o'clock it was three in the afternoon before they finally landed at the Bel=
gian
seaport. Interruptions were numerous, and although they were treated courte=
ously,
in the main, it was only after rigid questioning and a thorough examination
that they were permitted to proceed. A full hour was consumed at the harbor=
at
Ostend before they could even land.
As they stepped upon the wharf a group of Germ=
an
soldiers met them and now Captain Carg became the spokesman of the party. T=
he
young officer in command removed his helmet to bow deferentially to Patsy a=
nd
then turned to ask their business at Ostend.
"He says we must go before the military
governor," said Carg, translating. "There, if our papers are regu=
lar,
permits will be issued for us to proceed to Charleroi."
They left the sailor in charge of the launch,
which was well provisioned and contained a convertible bunk, and followed t=
he
officer into the town. Ostend is a large city, fortified, and was formerly =
one
of the most important ports on the North Sea, as well as a summer resort of=
prominence.
The city now being occupied by the Germans, our friends found few citizens =
on
the streets of Ostend and these hurried nervously on their way. The streets
swarmed with German soldiery.
Arriving at headquarters they found that the
commandant was too busy to attend to the Red Cross Americans. He ordered th=
em
taken before Colonel Grau for examination.
"But why examine us at all?" protest=
ed
Mr. Merrick. "Doesn't our sacred mission protect us from such annoying
details?"
The young officer regretted that it did not. T=
hey
would find Colonel Grau in one of the upper rooms. It would be a formal
examination, of course, and brief. But busy spies had even assumed the insi=
gnia
of the Red Cross to mask their nefarious work and an examination was theref=
ore necessary
as a protective measure. So they ascended a broad staircase and proceeded a=
long
a corridor to the colonel's office.
Grau was at the head of the detective service =
at
Ostend and invested with the task of ferreting out the numerous spies in the
service of the Allies and dealing with them in a summary manner. He was a v=
ery
stout man, and not very tall. His eyes were light blue and his grizzled mus=
tache
was a poor imitation of that affected by the Kaiser. When Grau looked up, on
their entrance, Patsy decided that their appearance had startled him, but
presently she realized that the odd expression was permanent.
In a chair beside the colonel's desk sat, or
rather lounged, another officer, encased in a uniform so brilliant that it
arrested the eye before one could discover its contents. These were a wizen=
ed, weather-beaten
man of advanced age, yet rugged as hickory. His eyes had a periodical squin=
t;
his brows wore a persistent frown. There was a broad scar on his left cheek=
and
another across his forehead. A warrior who had seen service, probably, but
whose surly physiognomy was somewhat disconcerting.
The two officers had been in earnest conversat=
ion,
but when Mr. Merrick's party was ushered in, the elder man leaned back in h=
is
chair, squinting and scowling, and regarded them silently.
"Huh!" exclaimed the colonel, in a
brusque growl. "What is it, von Holtz?"
The young officer explained that the party had
just arrived from Dunkirk in a launch; the commandant had asked Colonel Grau
kindly to examine them. Uncle John proceeded to state the case, Captain Carg
interpreting. They operated a Red Cross hospital ship at Dunkirk, and one of
their patients, a young Belgian, was dying of his wounds. They had come to =
find
his young wife and take her back with them to Dunkirk in their launch, that=
she
might comfort the last moments of her husband. The Americans asked for safe
conduct to Charleroi, and permission to take Mrs. Denton with them to Dunki=
rk.
Then he presented his papers, including the authority of the American Red C=
ross
Society, the letter from the secretary of state and the recommendation of t=
he
German ambassador at Washington.
The colonel looked them all over. He uttered
little guttural exclamations and tapped the desk with his finger-tips as he
read, and all the time his face wore that perplexing expression of surprise=
. Finally
he asked:
"Which is Mr. Merrick?"
Hearing his name, Uncle John bowed.
"Huh! But the description does not fit yo=
u."
Captain Carg translated this.
"Why not?" demanded Uncle John.
"It says you are short, stout, blue-eyed,
bald, forty-five years of age."
"Of course."
"You are not short; I think you are as ta=
ll
as I am. Your eyes are not blue; they are olive green. You are not bald, for
there is still hair over your ears. Huh! How do you explain that?"
"It's nonsense," said Uncle John
scornfully.
Carg was more cautious in interpreting the rem=
ark.
He assured the colonel, in German, that the description of Mr. Merrick was
considered close enough for all practical purposes. But Grau was not satisf=
ied.
He went over the papers again and then turned to face the other officer.
"What do you think, General?" he ask=
ed,
hesitatingly.
"Suspicious!" was the reply.
"I think so, myself," said the colon=
el.
"Mark you: Here's a man who claims to come from Sangoa, a place no one=
has
ever heard of; and the other has endorsements purporting to come from the
highest officials in America. Huh! what does it mean?"
"Papers may be forged, or stolen from the= ir proper owners," suggested the squinting general. "This excuse of coming here to get the wife of a hurt Belgian seems absurd. If they are rea= lly Red Cross workers, they are not attending to their proper business." <= o:p>
When the captain interpreted this speech Patsy
said angrily:
"The general is an old fool."
"An idiot, I'll call him," added Unc=
le
John. "I wish I could tell him so."
"You have told him," said the genera=
l in
good English, squinting now more rapidly than ever, "and your manner of
speech proves you to be impostors. I have never known a respectable Red Cro=
ss
nurse, of any country, who called a distinguished officer a fool--and to his
face."
"I didn't know you understood English,&qu=
ot;
she said.
"That is no excuse!"
"But I did know," she added, "t=
hat
I had judged you correctly. No one with a spark of intelligence could doubt=
the
evidence of these papers."
"The papers are all right. Where did you =
get
them?"
"From the proper authorities."
He turned to speak rapidly in German to Colonel
Grau, who had been uneasy during the conversation in English, because he fa=
iled
to understand it. His expression of piquant surprise was intensified as he =
now
turned to the Americans.
"You may as well confess your
imposture," said he. "It will make your punishment lighter. Howev=
er,
if on further examination you prove to be spies, your fate is beyond my pow=
er
to mitigate."
"See here," said Uncle John, when th=
is
was translated to him, "if you dare to interfere with us, or cause us
annoyance, I shall insist on your being courtmartialed. You are responsible=
to
your superiors, I suppose, and they dare not tolerate an insult to the Red
Cross, nor to an American citizen. You may have the sense to consider that =
if
these papers and letters are genuine, as I declare they are, I have friends=
powerful
enough to bring this matter before the Kaiser himself, in which case someone
will suffer a penalty, even if he is a general or a colonel."
As he spoke he glared defiantly at the older
officer, who calmly proceeded to translate the speech to the colonel. Carg
reported that it was translated verbatim. Then the general sat back and
squinted at his companion, who seemed fairly bewildered by the threat. Patsy
caught the young officer smothering a smile, but neither of them interrupted
the silence that followed.
Once again the colonel picked up the papers and
gave them a rigid examination, especially that of the German ambassador, wh=
ich
was written in his own language. "I cannot understand," he mutter=
ed,
"how one insignificant American citizen could secure such powerful
endorsements. It has never happened before in my experience."
"It is extraordinary," said the gene=
ral.
"Mr. Merrick," said Patsy to him,
"is a very important man in America. He is so important that any indig=
nity
to him will be promptly resented."
"I will investigate your case further,&qu=
ot;
decided Colonel Grau, after another sotto voce conference with the general.
"Spies are getting to be very clever, these days, and we cannot take
chances. However, I assure you there is no disposition to worry you and unt=
il
your standing is determined you will be treated with every consideration.&q=
uot;
"Do you mean that we are prisoners?"
asked Uncle John, trying to control his indignation.
"No, indeed. You will be detained, of cou=
rse,
but you are not prisoners--as yet. I will keep your papers and submit them =
to
the general staff. It will be for that august body to decide."
Uncle John protested vigorously; Patsy faced t=
he
old general and told him this action was an outrage that would be condemned=
by
the entire civilized world; Captain Carg gravely assured both officers that
they were making a serious mistake. But nothing could move the stolid Germa=
ns.
The general, indeed, smiled grimly and told them in English that he was in =
no
way responsible, whatever happened. This was Colonel Grau's affair, but he
believed, nevertheless, that the colonel was acting wisely.
The young officer, who had stood like a statue
during the entire interview, was ordered to accompany the Americans to a ho=
tel,
where they must be kept under surveillance but might follow, to an extent,
their own devices. They were not to mail letters nor send telegrams.
The officer asked who should guard the suspect=
s.
"Why not yourself, Lieutenant? You are on
detached duty, I believe?"
"At the port, Colonel."
"There are too many officers at the port;=
it
is a sinecure. I will appoint you to guard the Americans. You speak their
language, I believe?"
The young man bowed.
"Very well; I shall hold you responsible =
for
their safety."
They were then dismissed and compelled to foll=
ow
their guard from the room.
Patsy was now wild with rage and Uncle John
speechless. Even Carg was evidently uneasy.
"Do not mind," said the young lieute=
nant
consolingly. "It is merely a temporary inconvenience, you know, for yo=
ur
release will come very soon. And since you are placed in my care I beg you =
to
accept this delay with good grace and be happy as possible. Ostend is full =
of
life and I am conducting you to an excellent hotel."
The courtesy of Lieutenant von Holtz was beyond
criticism. He obtained for his charges a comfortable suite of rooms in an
overcrowded hotel, obliging the landlord to turn away other guests that Mr.
Merrick's party might be accommodated. The dinner that was served in their =
cosy
sitting room proved excellent, having been ordered by von Holtz after he ha=
d requested
that privilege. When the young officer appeared to see that it was properly
served, Patsy invited him to join them at the table and he laughingly
consented.
"You are one of our party, by force of
circumstances," said the girl, "and since we've found you
good-natured and polite, and believe you are not to blame for our troubles,=
we
may as well be friendly while we are together."
The young man was evidently well pleased.
"However evil your fortune may be," =
said
he, "I cannot fail to be impressed by my own good luck. Perhaps you may
guess what a relief this pleasant commission is to one who for days has been
compelled to patrol those vile smelling docks, watching for spies and endur=
ing
all sorts of weather."
"To think," said Uncle John gloomily,
"that we are accused of being spies!"
"It is not for me," returned von Hol=
tz,
"to criticize the acts of my superiors. I may say, however, that were =
it
my province to decide the question, you would now be free. Colonel Grau has=
an
excellent record for efficiency and seldom makes a mistake, but I suspect h=
is
judgment was influenced by the general, whose son was once jilted by an
American girl."
"We're going to get even with them both,
before this affair is ended," declared Patsy, vindictively; "but
although you are our actual jailer I promise that you will escape our
vengeance."
"My instructions are quite elastic, as you
heard," said the lieutenant. "I am merely ordered to keep you in
Ostend, under my eye, until your case has been passed upon by the commandan=
t or
the general staff. Since you have money, you may enjoy every luxury save th=
at
of travel, and I ask you to command my services in all ways consistent with=
my
duty."
"What worries me," said Patsy to Unc=
le
John, "is the delay. If we are kept here for long, poor Denton will die
before we can find his wife and take her to him."
"How long are we liable to be detained?&q=
uot;
Uncle John asked the officer.
"I cannot say. Perhaps the council of the
general staff will meet to-morrow morning; perhaps not for several days,&qu=
ot;
was the indefinite reply.
Patsy wiped away the tears that began to well =
into
her eyes. She had so fondly set her heart on reuniting the Dentons that her
disappointment was very great.
Von Holtz noticed the girl's mood and became
thoughtful. Captain Carg had remained glum and solemn ever since they had l=
eft
the colonel's office. Uncle John sat in silent indignation, wondering what
could be done to influence these stupid Germans. Presently the lieutenant r=
emarked:
"That sailor whom you left with the launch
seemed an intelligent fellow."
Patsy gave a start; Uncle John looked at the y=
oung
man expectantly; the captain nodded his head as he slowly replied:
"Henderson is one of the picked men I bro=
ught
from Sangoa. He is both intelligent and loyal."
"Curiously enough," said von Holtz,
"I neglected to place the man under arrest. I even forgot to report hi=
m.
He is free."
"Ah!" exclaimed Patsy, her eyes
lighting.
"I know a civilian here--a bright young
Belgian--who is my friend and will do anything I ask of him," resumed =
von
Holtz, still musingly. "I had the good fortune to protect his mother w=
hen
our troops entered the city, and he is grateful."
Patsy was thinking very fast now.
"Could Henderson get to Charleroi, do you
imagine?" she asked. "He has a passport."
"We do not consider passports of much
value," said the officer; "but a Red Cross appointment--"
"Oh, he has that, too; all our men carry
them."
"In that case, with my friend Rondel to g=
uide
him, I believe Henderson could accomplish your errand."
"Let us send for him at once!" excla=
imed
Uncle John.
Carg scribbled on a card.
"He wouldn't leave the launch without ord=
ers,
unless forced by the Germans," asserted the captain, and handed the ca=
rd
to von Holtz.
The young lieutenant took his cap, bowed
profoundly and left the room. In ten minutes he returned, saying: "I am
not so fortunate as I had thought. All our troops are on the move, headed f=
or
the Yser. There will be fighting, presently, and--I must remain here,"=
he
added despondently.
"It won't be your last chance, I'm
sure," said Patsy. "Will that dreadful Colonel Grau go, too?"=
;
"No; he is to remain. But all regiments q=
uartered
here are now marching out and to-morrow a fresh brigade will enter
Ostend."
They were silent a time, until someone rapped =
upon
the door. Von Holtz admitted a slim, good-looking young Belgian who grasped=
his
hand and said eagerly in French:
"You sent for me?"
"Yes. You may speak English here, Monsieur
Rondel." Then he presented his friend to the Americans, who approved h=
im
on sight.
Henderson came a few minutes later and listened
respectfully to the plan Miss Doyle unfolded. He was to go with Monsieur Ro=
ndel
to Charleroi, find Mrs. Denton, explain that her husband was very ill, and
bring her back with him to Ostend. He would report promptly on his return a=
nd
they would tell him what to do next.
The man accepted the mission without a word of=
protest.
Charleroi was in central Belgium, but that did not mean many miles away and
Rondel assured him they would meet with no difficulties. The trains were re=
served
for soldiers, but the Belgian had an automobile and a German permit to drive
it. The roads were excellent.
"Now, remember," said Patsy, "t=
he
lady you are going for is Mrs. Albert Denton. She lives with her mother, or
did, the last we heard of her."
"And her mother's name and address?"
inquired Henderson.
"We are ignorant of either," she con=
fessed;
"but it's not a very big town and I'm sure you'll easily find her.&quo=
t;
"I know the place well," said Rondel,
"and I have friends residing there who will give me information."=
Uncle John supplied them liberally with money,
impressed upon them the necessity of haste, and sent them away. Rondel decl=
ared
the night time was best for the trip and promised to be on the way within t=
he
hour, and in Charleroi by next morning.
Notwithstanding the fact that they had succeed=
ed
in promoting by proxy the mission which had brought them to Belgium, the
Americans found the next day an exceedingly irksome one. In the company of
Lieutenant von Holtz they were permitted to walk about the city, but they f=
ound
little pleasure in that, owing to the bustle of outgoing troops and the arr=
ival
of others to replace them. Nor did they care to stray far from their quarte=
rs,
for fear the council would meet and they might be sent for.
However, no sign from Colonel Grau was received
that day. Patsy went to bed with a nervous headache and left Uncle John and=
the
captain to smoke more than was good for them. Both the men had now come to
regard their situation as serious and as the American consul was at this ti=
me
absent in Brussels they could think of no way to secure their freedom. No o=
ne knew
when the consul would return; Mr. Merrick had been refused the privilege of
using the telegraph or mails. During one of their strolls they had met the
correspondent of an American newspaper, but when the man learned they were
suspects he got away from them as soon as possible. He did not know Mr. Mer=
rick
and his own liberty was too precarious for him to argue with Colonel Grau. =
"I'm beginning to think," said Uncle
John, "that we're up against a hard proposition. Letters and endorseme=
nts
from prominent Americans seem to have no weight with these Germans. I'd no =
idea
our identity could ever be disputed."
"We must admit, sir," returned the
captain, reflectively, "that the spy system in this war is something
remarkable. Spies are everywhere; clever ones, too, who adopt every sort of
subterfuge to escape detection. I do not blame Grau so much for caution as =
for
lack of judgment."
"He's a blockhead!" cried Mr. Merrick
testily.
"He is. I'm astonished they should place =
so
much power in the hands of one so slow witted."
"He has insulted us," continued Uncle
John. "He has dared to arrest three free-born Americans."
"Who came into a troubled country, occupi=
ed
by a conquering army, without being invited."
"Well--that's true," sighed the litt=
le
millionaire, "but what are we going to do about it?"
"Wait," counseled the captain.
The next day dawned dark and rainy and the wea=
ther
had a depressing effect upon the prisoners. It was too damp to stir out of
doors and the confinement of the hotel rooms became especially irksome. Not
only were they anxious about their own fate but it was far past the time wh=
en
they should have heard from Henderson and Rondel. Patsy's nerves were getti=
ng beyond
her control; Uncle John stumped around with his hands thrust deep in his po=
ckets
and a frown wrinkling his forehead; the captain smoked innumerable pipes of
tobacco and said not a word. Von Holtz, noting the uneasiness of his charge=
s,
discreetly forbore conversation and retired to a far corner where he hid be=
hind
a book.
It was nearing evening when a commotion was he=
ard
on the stairs, followed by the heavy tramp of feet in the corridor. A sharp=
rap
sounded on the door of their sitting room. Uncle John stepped forward to op=
en it,
when in stalked a group of German officers, their swords and spurs clanking=
and
their cloaks glistening with rain-drops. At sight of the young girl off came
cap and helmet and with one accord they bowed low.
The leader was a tall, thin man with a leathern
face, hooked nose and piercing gray eyes. His breast glittered with orders.=
It
was von Kargenbrut, the military governor.
"Pardon our intrusion," he said in
English, his harsh voice having a guttural accent. "Which gentleman is=
Mr.
John Merrick?"
"I am John Merrick."
The eagle eyes swept over him with a swift gla=
nce.
"We owe you our apology," continued =
the
governor, speaking as fiercely as if he were ordering Uncle John beheaded.
"I have been too busy to take up your case before to-day, when I disco=
ver
that we have treated you discourteously. You will consider our fault due to
these troubled times, when mistakes occur in spite of our watchfulness. Is =
it
not so?"
"Your error has caused us great
inconvenience," responded Mr. Merrick stiffly.
The governor whirled around. "Colonel
Grau!" he called, and from the rear of the group the colonel stepped
forward. His face still wore the expression of comical surprise. "Retu=
rn
to Mr. Merrick his papers and credentials."
The colonel drew the packet of papers from his
breast pocket and handed it to Uncle John. Then he glanced hesitatingly at =
his
superior, who glared at him.
"He cannot speak the English," said =
the
governor to Mr. Merrick, "but he owes you reparation."
"Grau's stupidity has been very annoying,=
to
say the least," was the ungracious reply. "We came here on import=
ant
business, and presented our papers--all in proper order--on demand. We had =
the
right to expect decent treatment, as respectable American citizens engaged =
in humanitarian
work; yet this--this--man," pointing an accusing finger at the colonel,
"ordered us detained--arrested!--and kept our papers."
The governor listened coldly and at the end of=
the
speech inclined his head.
"Colonel Grau," said he, "has b=
een
relieved of his duties here and transferred to another station. To you I ha=
ve
personally apologized. You will find my endorsement on your papers and, in
addition, an order that will grant you safe conduct wherever you may wish to
go. If that is not enough, make your demands and I will consider them."=
;
"Why, that is all I can expect, your Exce=
llency,
under the circumstances," replied Mr. Merrick. "I suppose I ought=
to
thank you for your present act of justice."
"No; it is your due. Good evening, Mr.
Merrick."
He swung around on his heel and every officer =
of
the group turned with him, like so many automatons, all facing the door. But
Mr. Merrick touched the governor upon the arm.
"One moment, your Excellency. This young
officer, Lieutenant von Holtz, has treated us kindly and courteously. I want
you to know that one of your men, at least, has performed his duty in a way=
to
merit our thanks--and yours."
The governor scowled at Lieutenant von Holtz, =
who
stood like a statue, with lowered eyes.
"Lieutenant, you are commissioned to guide
Mr. Merrick as long as he remains within our lines. You will guard his safe=
ty
and that of his party. When he departs, come to me personally with your
report."
The young officer bowed; the governor tramped =
to
the door and went out, followed by his staff. Grau left the room last, with
hang-dog look, and Patsy slammed the door in the hope of bumping his wooden
head.
"So we're free?" she said, turning to
von Holtz.
"Not only that, Fraulein, but you are hig=
hly
favored," he replied. "All German territory is now open to you.&q=
uot;
"It's about time they came to their sense=
s,"
remarked Uncle John, with a return to his accustomed cheerfulness.
"And, best of all," said Patsy
exultantly, "they've fired that awful colonel!"
The captain thoughtfully filled and lighted his
pipe.
"I wonder," said he, "how that
happened. Was it the council, do you think, Lieutenant?"
Von Holtz shook his head.
"I think it was the governor," he
replied. "He is a just man, and had you been able to see him personall=
y on
your arrival you would have been spared any annoyance."
"Perhaps," said Patsy doubtfully.
"But your governor's a regular bear."
"I believe that is merely his way,"
asserted Uncle John. "I didn't mind the man's tone when I found his wo=
rds
and deeds were all right. But he--"
Another rap at the door. Patsy opened it and admitted Henderson. He saluted the captain, bowed to the others and said: <= o:p>
"We've got her, sir."
"Mrs. Denton?" cried Patsy, delighte=
dly.
Henderson nodded.
"Yes, Miss Doyle; Mrs. Denton and the
children."
"The children! Why, there aren't any.&quo=
t;
"I beg your pardon, Miss; there are
two."
"Two children!" she exclaimed in dis=
may.
"There must be some mistake. The young people have only been married f=
ive
months."
Henderson stood stiff as a poker, refusing to
argue the point.
"A governess, maybe," suggested the
captain.
"More likely," said Uncle John,
"young Denton married a widow, with--eh--eh--incumbrances."
"That's it, sir," said Henderson
earnestly.
"What's it?"
"The incumbrances, sir. No other word cou=
ld
describe 'em."
Patsy's heart sank; she was greatly disappoint=
ed.
"And she so young and pretty!" she
murmured.
Henderson started to smile, but quickly suppre=
ssed
it.
"Shall I show them up, Miss?" he
inquired.
"Of course," answered Uncle John, as=
the
girl hesitated. "You should have brought her to us at once. Where is t=
hat
Belgian--Rondel?"
"He is guarding the woman, sir."
"Guarding her!"
"She's a little difficult to manage, sir,=
at
times. She left Charleroi willingly enough, but she's tricky, and it is our
duty to deliver her to you safely."
"Get her at once, Henderson," exclai=
med
Patsy, recovering her wits; "and the dear children, too."
Presently there was a sound of shuffling on the
stairs and through the corridor. The door opened to admit the arrivals from
Charleroi.
Henderson first pushed in a big woman dressed =
in a
faded blue-checked gown, belted around the waist in a manner that made her =
look
like a sack tied in the middle. Her head was bare, her hair awry, her face
sullen and hard; she was undeniably "fleshy" and not altogether
clean. She resisted Henderson at every step and glared around her with shre=
wd
and shifting eyes.
Following her came Monsieur Rondel leading a b=
oy
and a girl, the latter being a small replica of the woman. The boy was
viciously struggling to bite the hand of the Belgian, who held him fast.
"Ah, well," said Rondel, first sighi=
ng
and then turning with a smile to face the lieutenant, "we have perform=
ed
our mission. But heaven guard us from another like it!"
Patsy stared hard at the woman.
"This cannot be Mrs. Denton," she ga=
sped,
bewildered.
"Indeed?" answered Rondel in English.
"She declares that is her name. Question her in French or Flemish, Miss
Doyle."
Patsy addressed the woman in French but could
elicit no reply. She stood impassive and silent.
"How did you make the mistake?" asked
the girl, looking reproachfully first at Henderson and then at Rondel, both=
of
whom were evidently astonished to find themselves at fault. "I have se=
en a
photograph of Mrs. Andrew Denton, taken recently, and she is young and pret=
ty and--and--rather
small."
Monsieur Rondel cleared his throat to answer: =
"It happened in this way, mademoiselle: We searched one whole day in Charleroi for Mrs. Denton but could not find her.= My friends, on whom I had relied for assistance, had unfortunately moved away = or joined the army. The townspeople were suspicious of Monsieur Henderson, who= is a foreigner. We could get no information whatever. I appealed to the burgom= aster and he said he would try to find Mrs. Denton for us the next day. In the morning came to us this woman, who said she was the person we sought. If we promised her safe conduct to Dunkirk, she would go with us. She had wanted = to go to Dunkirk for some weeks, but the Germans would not let her pass the li= nes. We suspected nothing wrong, for she admitted she was aware that her husband= is in Dunkirk, and she wanted to get to him. So we brought her to you." <= o:p>
Patsy faced the woman resolutely and said in
French:
"Why did you wish to get to Dunkirk?"=
;
"He has said it. To find my husband,"
replied the woman in a surly tone.
"What is your name?"
No reply.
"Answer me!"
The woman eyed her obstinately and remained
silent.
"Very well. Release those children, Monsi=
eur
Rondel. Madam, you have imposed upon us; you have tricked us in order to ge=
t to
Ostend at our expense. Now go, and take your children with you."
She pointed dramatically at the door, but the
woman retained her position, only moving to cuff the boy, who was kicking
Henderson on his shins. Then, setting her hands on her hips she said defian=
tly:
"They promised me passage to Dunkirk, and
they must take me there."
"Who promised you?"
"Those men," pointing to them, "=
;and
the burgomaster."
"Yes," admitted Henderson, "we
agreed with the burgomaster to take her out of the country. We signed a pap=
er to
that effect."
"But she is a Belgian. And she is not the
person she claimed to be."
To this neither Rondel nor Henderson had an
answer.
"See here," said Uncle John, "I=
'll
untangle this matter in a jiffy. Here is money; give it to the woman and te=
ll
her to get out--or we'll eject her by force."
The woman grabbed the money eagerly, but after
placing it in an ample pocket she said: "I will go no place but Dunkir=
k. I
will not leave you until you take me there."
But here the lieutenant interfered. He suddenly
faced the woman, who had not noticed his presence before, and she shrank ba=
ck
in fear at sight of his uniform. The boy and girl both began to cry.
"I know you," said von Holtz sternly.
"You are the wife of a spy who has been condemned to death by both the
Belgians and the Germans, since he betrayed them both. The last time you ca=
me
to Ostend to annoy us you were driven out of the city. There is still an ed=
ict
against you. Will you leave this room peaceably, or shall I order you under
arrest?"
"Dog of a German!" she hissed, "=
;the
day is coming when I will help to drive you out of Belgium, even as you now
drive me. Brave soldiers are you, to make war on women and children. Guh! I
would kill you where you stand--if I dared." With venomous hate she sp=
at
upon the floor, then seized her wailing children, shook them and waddled ou=
t of
the room.
There was a general sigh of relief.
"You may return to the launch,
Henderson," said the captain.
"Monsieur Rondel," said Uncle John,
grasping the young Belgian's hand, "we are grateful to you for your
kindness. The failure of your mission was not your fault. We thank you. The
governor has given us our liberty and permission to travel where we please,=
so
to-morrow we will go to Charleroi ourselves to search for Mrs. Denton."=
;
"My motor car is at your disposal, sir, a=
nd
my services."
"To-morrow? Oh, let us go to-night,
Uncle!" cried Patsy.
Mr. Merrick looked inquiringly at the Belgian.=
"I am ready now," said Rondel with a
bow.
"Then," said Patsy, "we will st=
art
in half an hour. You see, we have wasted two whole days--two precious days!=
I
hope Dr. Gys will keep his promise, and that we shall find poor Denton aliv=
e on
our return."
The pretty city of Charleroi had suffered litt=
le
damage from the German invasion, yet many of the townspeople had gone away
since the occupation and those who remained kept well within their houses or
huddled in anxious groups upon the streets. The civic affairs were still ad=
ministered
by the Belgian burgomaster, but the martial law of the Germans prevailed ov=
er
all.
When Patsy Doyle, escorted by Uncle John and
accompanied by Captain Carg, Lieutenant von Holtz and Monsieur Rondel, arri=
ved
in the early morning, the streets were comparatively deserted. The Hotel Ro=
yal received
them hospitably and the landlord and his daughters prepared them an excelle=
nt
breakfast.
While eating, Patsy chatted with the Belgian
girls, who were neat, modest and intelligent. She found that Henderson and
Rondel had not stopped at this hotel while in Charleroi, but at a smaller i=
nn
at the other end of the town. The girls remembered hearing of their visit a=
nd of
their inquiries for a Mrs. Denton, but did not know whether they had succee=
ded
in their quest or not.
"We have lived here all our lives," =
said
the eldest of the landlord's three daughters, "but we have not known,
during that time, any family of Dentons in Charleroi."
Patsy reflected.
"They were married only five months ago,
these Dentons," said she, "and the young man may have come from s=
ome
other town. Do you remember that any of your young girls were married about
five months ago?"
Yes; there was Hildegarde Bentel, but she had
married Anthony Mattison, who was not a soldier. Could the American mamselle
remember what the girl's first name was?
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Patsy. "She
signed her letters 'Elizabeth.'"
They shook their heads.
"My name is also Elizabeth," said on=
e.
"We have many Elizabeths in Charleroi, but none has lately married.&qu=
ot;
"And her husband told me that she was now
living here with her mother."
"Ah, let us see, then," responded
another. "Could she have been a lady of rank, think you?"
"I--I do not know."
"Is her husband an officer?"
"No; a private, I believe."
"Then we are on the wrong scent,"
laughed the girl. "I had in mind the daughter of the Countess Voig, wh=
ose
name chances to be Elizabeth. She was educated at a convent in Antwerp, and=
the
countess has lived in that city for several years, in order to be nearer her
daughter. There was some gossip here that the young lady had married in
Antwerp, just after leaving the convent; but we know little of the life of =
the
Voigs because they are very reserved. Two or three months ago they returned=
to
their castle, which is four miles to the north of Charleroi, and there they=
are
still living in retirement. Every day the old steward drives into town to v=
isit
the post office, but we have not seen the countess nor her daughter since t=
hey
came back."
Patsy related this news to Uncle John, who did=
not
understand French.
"Let us drive over to Castle Voig the fir=
st
thing," she said.
"But, my dear, it's unreasonable," he
objected. "Do you suppose a high-born young lady would marry a common
soldier? In America, where we have no caste, it would be quite probable, but
here--"
"He wasn't a soldier five months ago,&quo=
t;
said Patsy. "He's just a volunteer, who joined the army when his count=
ry
needed him, as many of the wealthy and aristocratic Belgians did. He may be
high-born himself, for all we know. At any rate I mean to visit that castle.
Tell Rondel to bring around the automobile."
They had no trouble in passing the guards, owi=
ng
to the presence of von Holtz, and in half an hour they were rolling through=
a
charming, peaceful country that as yet had suffered no blemish through the
German conquest.
At Castle Voig they were received by an aged
retainer who was visibly nervous at their arrival. He eyed the uniform of y=
oung
von Holtz with ill-concealed terror and hurried away to carry their cards to
the countess. After a long wait they learned that the countess would receiv=
e the
Americans, but it was a full half hour after that when they were ushered in=
to a
reception room where a lady sat in solitary state.
Under other circumstances Patsy could have spe=
nt a
day in admiring the quaint, old-fashioned furniture and pictures and the
wonderful carvings of the beamed ceiling, but now she was so excited that s=
he
looked only at the countess. The lady was not very imposing in form or dress
but her features were calm and dignified and she met her guests with a grav=
e courtesy
that was impressive if rather chilly. Before Patsy had summoned courage to
explain her errand a younger woman--almost a girl--hurriedly entered the ro=
om
and took a position beside the other.
"Oh, it's Elizabeth--it really is!"
cried Patsy, clapping her hands together joyfully.
Mother and daughter regarded the American girl
wonderingly and somewhat haughtily, but Patsy was not in the least dismayed=
.
"Isn't this Mrs. Denton?" she asked,
stepping forward to lay a hand upon the other girl's arm.
"Yes," was the quiet reply.
Patsy's great eyes regarded her a moment with =
so
sad and sympathetic a look that Mrs. Denton shrank away. Then she noticed f=
or
the first time the Red Cross uniform, and her hand went swiftly to her hear=
t as
she faltered:
"You--you have brought bad news of Andrew=
--of
my husband?"
"Yes, I am sorry to admit that it is bad
news," answered Patsy soberly. "He has been wounded and is now ly=
ing
ill in our hospital ship at Dunkirk. We came here to find you, and to take =
you
to him."
Mrs. Denton turned to her mother, a passionate
appeal in her eyes. But it was some moments before the hard, set look on the
face of the countess softened. It did soften at last, however, and she turn=
ed
to Patsy and said simply:
"We will prepare for the journey at once.
Pray excuse us; Niklas will serve refreshments. We will not detain you
long."
As they turned to leave the room Elizabeth Den=
ton
suddenly seized Patsy's hand.
"He will live?" she whispered.
"Tell me he will live!"
Patsy's heart sank, but she summoned her wits =
by
an effort.
"I am not a surgeon, my dear, and do not =
know
how serious the wound may be," she answered, "but I assure you it
will gladden his heart to see you again. He thinks and speaks only of
you."
The girl-wife studied her face a moment and th=
en
dropped her hand and hurried after her mother.
"I fibbed, Uncle," said Patsy
despondently. "I fibbed willfully. But--how could I help it when she
looked at me that way?"
Henderson was waiting with the launch at the
Ostend docks. Lieutenant von Holtz was earnestly thanked by Patsy and Uncle
John for his kindness and in return he exacted a promise from them to hunt =
him
up in Germany some day, when the war was ended. The countess and Mrs. Dento=
n,
sad and black-robed, had been made comfortable in the stern seats of the bo=
at and
the captain was just about to order Henderson to start the engine when up to
them rushed the fat Belgian woman and her two children.
Without an instant's hesitation the two youngs=
ters
leaped aboard like cats and their mother would have followed but for the
restraining hand of Captain Carg.
"What does this mean?" cried Mr. Mer=
rick
angrily.
The woman jabbered volubly in French.
"She says," interpreted Patsy,
"that we promised to take her to Dunkirk, so she may find her
husband."
"Let her walk!" said Uncle John.
"The Germans won't allow her to cross the
lines. What does it matter, Uncle? We have plenty of room. In three hours we
can be rid of them, and doubtless the poor thing is really anxious to find =
her
lost husband, who was last seen in Dunkirk."
"He is a spy, and a traitor to both sides,
according to report."
"That isn't our affair, is it? And I supp=
ose
even people of that class have hearts and affections."
"Well, let her come aboard, Captain,"
decided Uncle John. "We can't waste time in arguing."
They stowed her away in the bow, under Henders=
on's
care, and threatened the children with dire punishment if they moved from u=
nder
her shadow. Then the launch sped out into the bay and away toward Dunkirk. =
Three days had brought many changes to the
hospital ship Arabella. Of the original batch of patients only Lieutenant E=
lbl,
the German, and Andrew Denton now remained. All the others had been sent ho=
me, transferred
to the government hospitals or gone back to the front, according to the
character of their injuries. This was necessary because their places were
needed by the newly wounded who were brought each day from the front. Little
Maurie was driving the ambulance again and, with Ajo beside him and Dr. Kel=
sey
and a sailor for assistants, the Belgian would make a dash to Ypres or Dixm=
ude
or Furnes and return with a full load of wounded soldiers.
These were the days of the severest fighting in
Flanders, fighting so severe that it could not keep up for long. There would
come a lull presently, when the overworked nurses and surgeons could get a =
bit
of sleep and draw a long breath again.
Gys had elected to remain aboard the ship, whe=
re
with Maud and Beth he was kept busy night and day. Two French girls--young
women of good birth and intelligence--had been selected by Dr. Gys from a
number of applicants as assistant nurses, and although they were inexperien=
ced,
their patriotic zeal rendered them valuable. They now wore the Red Cross un=
iforms
and it was decided to retain them as long as the ship's hospital remained
crowded.
There was plenty of work for all and the worry=
and
long hours might have broken down the health and strength of Beth and Maud =
had
not the doctor instituted regular periods of duty for each member of the fo=
rce
and insisted on the schedule being carried out.
This hospital ship was by no means so gloomy a
place as the reader may imagine. The soldiers were prone to regard their hu=
rts
lightly, as "a bit of hard luck," and since many had slight injur=
ies
it was customary for them to gather in groups upon the deck, where they wou=
ld
laugh and chat together, play cards for amusement or smoke quantities of ci=
garettes.
They were mainly kind-hearted and grateful fellows and openly rejoiced that=
the
misfortunes of war had cast their lot on this floating hospital.
Under the probe of the surgeon to-day, a fortn=
ight
hence back on the firing line, was not very unusual with these brave men. T=
he
ambulances had gathered in a few German soldiers, who would become prisoner=
s of
war on their recovery, and while these were inclined to be despondent and
unsociable they were treated courteously by all, the Americans showing no
preference for any nation. The large majority of the patients, however, came
from the ranks of the Allies--French, English and Belgian--and these were m=
en
who could smile and be merry with bandaged heads, arms a-sling, legs in
splints, bullet holes here and there, such afflictions being regarded by th=
eir
victims with a certain degree of pride.
Dr. Gys was in his element, for now he had amp=
le
opportunity to display his skill and his patients were unable to "jump=
to
another doctor" in case his ugly features revolted them. His main
interest, however, lay in the desperately wounded Belgian private, Andrew
Denton, whom he had agreed to keep alive until the return of Miss Doyle and=
her
uncle.
In making this promise Gys had figured on a
possible delay of several days, but on the second day following Patsy's
departure the sudden sinking of his patient aroused a defiant streak in the
surgeon and he decided to adopt drastic measures in order to prevent Denton
from passing away before his wife's arrival.
"I want you to assist me in a serious
operation," he said to Maud Stanton. "By all the rules and preced=
ents
of human flesh, that fellow Denton ought to succumb to his wound within the
next three hours. The shell played havoc with his interior and I have never
dared, until now, to attempt to patch things up; but if we're going to keep=
him
alive until morning, or until your cousin's return, we must accomplish the =
impossible."
"What is that?" she inquired.
"Remove his vital organs, tinker them up =
and
put them back so they will work properly."
"Can that be done, doctor?"
"I think not. But I'm going to try it. I =
am
positive that if we leave him alone he has less than three hours of life
remaining; so, if we fail, Miss Stanton, as it is reasonable to expect, poor
Denton will merely be spared a couple of hours of pain. Get the anaesthetic=
s, please."
With all her training and experience as a nurs=
e,
Maud was half terrified at the ordeal before her. But she realized the logi=
c of
the doctor's conclusion and steeled her nerves to do her part.
An hour later she stood looking down upon the
patient. He was still upon the operating table but breathing quietly and as
strongly as at any time since he had received his wound.
"This shows," Dr. Gys said to her, h=
is
voice keen with elation, "what fools we are to take any human condition
for granted. Man is a machine. Smash his mechanism and it cannot work; make=
the
proper repairs before it is too late and--there he goes, ticking away as
before. Not as good a machine as it was prior to the break, but with care a=
nd
caution it will run a long time."
"He will live, then, you think?" she
asked softly, marveling that after what she had witnessed the man was still
able to breathe.
Gys leaned down and put his ear to the heart of
the patient. For two minutes he remained motionless. Then he straightened up
and a smile spread over his disfigured features.
"I confidently believe, Miss Stanton, we =
have
turned the trick! Luck, let us call it, for no sensible surgeon would have
attempted the thing. Rest assured that Andrew Denton will live for the next=
ten
days. More than that, with no serious set-back he may fully recover and live
for many years to come."
He was so pleased that tears stood in his one =
good
eye and he wiped them away sheepishly. The girl took his hand and pressed i=
t in
both her own.
"You are wonderful--wonderful!" she
said.
"Don't, please--don't look in my face,&qu=
ot;
he pleaded.
"I won't," she returned, dropping her
eyes; "I will think only of the clever brain, the skillful hand and the
stout heart."
"Not even that," he said. "Thin=
k of
the girl wife--of Elizabeth. It was she who steadied my hand to-day. Indeed,
Miss Stanton, it was Elizabeth's influence that saved him. But for her we w=
ould
have let him die."
So it was toward evening of the fourth day that
the launch finally sighted the ship Arabella. Delays and difficulties had b=
een encountered
in spite of government credentials and laissez-passer and Patsy had begun to
fear they would not reach the harbor of Dunkirk before dark.
All through the journey the Belgian woman and =
her
children had sat sullenly in the bow, the youngsters kept from mischief by =
the
stern eye of Henderson. In the stern seats, however, the original frigid
silence had been thawed by Patsy Doyle's bright chatter. She began by telli=
ng the
countess and Elizabeth all about herself and Beth and Maud and Uncle John,
relating how they had come to embark upon this unusual mission of nursing t=
he
wounded of a foreign war, and how they had secured the services of the clev=
er
but disfigured surgeon, Dr. Gys. She gave the ladies a clear picture of the
hospital ship and told how the girls had made their dash to the firing line
during the battle of Nieuport and brought back an ambulance full of
wounded--including Andrew Denton.
Patsy did not answer very fully Elizabeth Dent=
on's
eager questions concerning the nature of her husband's injuries, but she tr=
ied
to prepare the poor young wife for the knowledge that the wound would prove=
fatal.
This was a most delicate and difficult thing to do and Patsy blundered and
floundered until her very ambiguity aroused alarm.
"Tell me the worst!" begged Elizabeth
Denton, her face pale and tensely drawn.
"Why, I cannot do that, you see,"
replied Patsy, "because the worst hasn't happened yet; nor can I tell =
you
the best, because a wound is such an uncertain thing. It was a shell, you k=
now,
that exploded behind him, and Dr. Gys thought it made a rather serious woun=
d.
Mr. Denton was unconscious a long time, and when he came to himself we eased
his pain, so he would not suffer."
"You came to get me because you thought he
would die?"
"I came because he asked me to read to him
your letters, and I found they comforted him so much that your presence wou=
ld,
I knew, comfort him more."
There was a long silence. Presently the counte=
ss
asked in her soft, even voice:
"Will he be alive when we get there?"=
;
Patsy thought of the days that had been wasted,
because of their detention at Ostend through Colonel Grau's stupidity.
"I hope so, madam," was all she could
reply.
Conversation lagged after this episode. Elizab=
eth
was weeping quietly on her mother's shoulder. Patsy felt relief in the
knowledge that she had prepared them, as well as she could, for whatever mi=
ght
wait upon their arrival.
The launch made directly for the ship and as s=
he
came alongside to the ladder the rail was lined with faces curious to disco=
ver
if the errand had been successful. Doctor Gys was there to receive them,
smiling horribly as he greeted the two women in black. Maud, seeing that th=
ey recoiled
from the doctor's appearance, took his place and said cheerfully:
"Mr. Denton is asleep, just now, but by t=
he
time you have bathed and had a cup of tea I am quite sure he will be ready =
to
receive you."
"Tell me; how is he? Are you his nurse?&q=
uot;
asked the young wife with trembling lips.
"I am his nurse, and I assure you he is d=
oing
very well," answered Maud with her pleasant, winning smile. "When=
he
finds you by his side I am sure his recovery will be rapid. No nurse can ta=
ke
the place of a wife, you know."
Patsy looked at her reproachfully, thinking she
was misleading the poor young wife, but Maud led the ladies away to a state=
room
and it was Dr. Gys who explained the wonderful improvement in the patient. =
"Well," remarked Uncle John, "if
we'd known he had a chance, we wouldn't have worried so because we were held
up. In fact, if we'd known he would get well, we needn't have gone at
all."
"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Patsy
reprovingly.
"It was your going that saved him,"
declared the doctor. "I promised to keep him alive, for that little wi=
fe
of his, and when he took a turn for the worse I had to assume desperate
chances--which won out."
Meantime the big Belgian woman and her children
had been helped up the ladder by Henderson, who stood respectfully by, awai=
ting
orders for their disposal. The mother had her eye on the shore and was scow=
ling
steadily upon it when little Maurie came on deck and strolled toward Mr. Me=
rrick
to greet him on his return. Indeed, he had approached to within a dozen fee=
t of
the group when the woman at the rail suddenly turned and saw him.
"Aha--mon Henri!" she cried and made=
a
dash toward him with outstretched arms.
"Clarette!"
Maurie stopped short; he grew pallid; he tremb=
led.
But he did not await her coming. With a howl that would have shamed a wild
Indian he leaped upon the rail and made a dive into the water below.
Even as her engulfing arms closed around the s=
pot
where he had stood, there was a splash and splutter that drew everyone to t=
he
side to watch the little Belgian swim frantically to the docks.
The woman grabbed a child with either arm and =
held
them up.
"See!" she cried. "There is your
father--the coward--the traitor--the deserter of his loving family. He thin=
ks
to escape; but we shall capture him yet, and when we do--"
"Hurry, father," screamed the little
girl, "or she'll get you."
A slap on the mouth silenced her and set the b=
oy
wailing dismally. The boy was accustomed to howl without provocation. He ki=
cked
his mother until she let him down. By this time they could discern only
Maurie's head bobbing in the distant water. Presently he clambered up the d=
ock and
ran dripping toward the city, disappearing among the buildings.
"Madam," said Uncle John, sternly,
"you have cost us the best chauffeur we ever had."
She did not understand English, but she shook =
her
fist in Mr. Merrick's face and danced around in an elephantine fashion and
jabbered a stream of French.
"What does she say?" he asked Patsy,=
who
was laughing merrily at the absurd scene.
"She demands to be put ashore at once. But
shall we do that, and put poor Maurie in peril of being overtaken?"
"Self preservation is the first law of
nature, my dear," replied Uncle John. "I'm sorry for Maurie, but =
he
alone is responsible. Henderson," he added, turning to the sailor, &qu=
ot;put
this woman ashore as soon as possible. We've had enough of her."
Although the famous battle of Nieuport had com=
e to
an end, the fighting in West Flanders was by no means over. All along the l=
ine
fierce and relentless war waged without interruption and if neither side co=
uld claim
victory, neither side suffered defeat. Day after day hundreds of combatants
fell; hundreds of disabled limped to the rear; hundreds were made prisoners.
And always a stream of reinforcements came to take the places of the missing
ones. Towns were occupied to-day by the Germans, to-morrow by the Allies; f=
rom
Nieuport on past Dixmude and beyond Ypres the dykes had been opened and the=
low
country was one vast lake. The only approaches from French territory were h=
alf
a dozen roads built high above the water line, which rendered them capable =
of
stubborn defence.
Dunkirk was thronged with reserves--English,
Belgian and French. The Turcos and East Indians were employed by the Britis=
h in
this section and were as much dreaded by the civilians as the enemy. Uncle =
John
noticed that military discipline was not so strict in Dunkirk as at Ostend;=
but
the Germans had but one people to control while the French town was host to
many nations and races.
Strange as it may appear, the war was growing
monotonous to those who were able to view it closely, perhaps because nothi=
ng
important resulted from all the desperate, continuous fighting. The people =
were
pursuing their accustomed vocations while shells burst and bullets whizzed
around them. They must manage to live, whatever the outcome of this struggl=
e of
nations might be.
Aboard the American hospital ship there was as=
yet
no sense of monotony. The three girls who had conceived and carried out this
remarkable philanthropy were as busy as bees during all their waking hours =
and
the spirit of helpful charity so strongly possessed them that all their tho=
ughts
were centered on their work. No two cases were exactly alike and it was
interesting, to the verge of fascination, to watch the results of various
treatments of divers wounds and afflictions.
The girls often congratulated themselves on ha=
ving
secured so efficient a surgeon as Doctor Gys, who gloried in his work, and
whose judgment, based on practical experience, was comprehensive and unfail=
ing.
The man's horribly contorted features had now become so familiar to the gir=
ls
that they seldom noticed them--unless a cry of fear from some newly arrived=
and
unnerved patient reminded them that the doctor was exceedingly repulsive to
strangers.
No one recognized this grotesque hideousness m=
ore
than Doctor Gys himself. When one poor Frenchman died under the operating
knife, staring with horror into the uncanny face the surgeon bent over him,
Beth was almost sure the fright had hastened his end. She said to Gys that =
evening,
when they met on deck, "Wouldn't it be wise for you to wear a mask in =
the
operating room?"
He considered the suggestion a moment, a deep
flush spreading over his face; then he nodded gravely.
"It may be an excellent idea," he
agreed. "Once, a couple of years ago, I proposed wearing a mask wherev=
er I
went, but my friends assured me the effect would be so marked that it would
attract to me an embarrassing amount of attention. I have trained myself to
bear the repulsion involuntarily exhibited by all I meet and have taught my=
self
to take a philosophic, if somewhat cynical, view of my facial blemishes; ye=
t in
this work I can see how a mask might be merciful to my patients. I will exp=
eriment
a bit along this line, if you will help me, and we'll see what we can
accomplish."
"You must not think," she said quiet=
ly,
for she detected a little bitterness in his tone, "that you are in any=
way
repulsive to those who know you well. We all admire you as a man and are gr=
ieved
at the misfortunes that marred your features. After all, Doctor, people of =
intelligence
seldom judge one by appearances."
"However they may judge me," said he,
"I'm a failure. You say you admire me as a man, but you don't. It's ju=
st a
bit of diplomatic flattery. I'm a good doctor and surgeon, I'll admit, but =
my
face is no more repellent than my cowardly nature. Miss Beth, I hate myself=
for
my cowardice far more than I detest my ghastly countenance. Yet I am powerl=
ess
to remedy either defect."
"I believe that what you term your coward=
ice
is merely a physical weakness," declared the girl. "It must have =
been
caused by the suffering you endured at the time of your various injuries. I
have noticed that suffering frequently unnerves one, and that a person who =
has
once been badly hurt lives in nervous terror of being hurt again."
"You are very kind to try to excuse my
fault," said he, "but the truth is I have always been a coward--f=
rom
boyhood up."
"Yet you embarked on all those dangerous
expeditions."
"Yes, just to have fun with myself; to sn=
eer
at the coward flesh, so to speak. I used to long for dangers, and when they
came upon me I would jeer at and revile the quaking I could not repress. I
pushed my shrinking body into peril and exulted in the punishment it
received."
Beth looked at him wonderingly.
"You are a strange man, indeed," said she. "Really, I cannot understand your mental attitude at all." <= o:p>
He chuckled and rubbed his hands together
gleefully.
"I can," he returned, "for I kn=
ow
what causes it." And then he went away and left her, still seeming hig=
hly
amused at her bewilderment.
In the operating room the next day Gys appeared
with a rubber mask drawn across his features. The girls decided that it
certainly improved his appearance, odd as the masked face might appear to
strangers. It hid the dreadful nose and the scars and to an extent evened t=
he
size of the eyes, for the holes through which he peered were made alike. Gys
was himself pleased with the device, for after that he wore the mask almost=
constantly,
only laying it aside during the evenings when he sat on deck.
It was three days after the arrival of Mrs. De=
nton
and her mother--whose advent had accomplished much toward promoting the you=
ng
Belgian's convalescence--when little Maurie suddenly reappeared on the deck=
of
the Arabella.
"Oh," said Patsy, finding him there =
when
she came up from breakfast, "where is Clarette?"
He shook his head sadly.
"We do not live together, just now,"
said he. "Clarette is by nature temperamental, you know; she is highly
sensitive, and I, alas! do not always please her."
"Did she find you in Dunkirk?" asked=
the
girl.
"Almost, mamselle, but not quite. It was =
this
way: I knew if I permitted her to follow me she would finally succeed in her
quest, for she and the dear children have six eyes among them, while I have=
but
two; so I reposed within an ash-barrel until they had passed on, and then I=
followed
them, keeping well out of their sight. In that way I managed to escape. But=
it
proved a hard task, for my Clarette is very persistent, as you may have
noticed. So I decided I would be more safe upon the ship than upon the shor=
e.
She is not likely to seek me here, and in any event she floats better than =
she
swims."
Patsy regarded the little man curiously.
"Did you not tell us, when first we met y=
ou,
that you were heart-broken over the separation from your wife and
children?" she inquired in severe tones.
"Yes, of course, mamselle; it was a good =
way
to arouse your sympathy," he admitted with an air of pride. "I ne=
eded
sympathy at that time, and my only fear was that you would find Clarette, as
you threatened to do. Well," with a deep sigh, "you did find her.=
It
was an unfriendly act, mamselle."
"They told us in Ostend that the husband =
of
Clarette is a condemned spy, one who served both sides and proved false to
each. The husband of Clarette is doomed to suffer death at the hands of the
Germans or the Belgians, if either is able to discover him."
Maurie removed his cap and scratched the hair =
over
his left ear reflectively.
"Ah, yes, the blacksmith!" said he.
"I suspected that blacksmith fellow was not reliable."
"How many husbands has Clarette?"
"With the blacksmith, there are two of
us," answered Maurie, brightly. "Doubtless there would be more if
anything happened to me, for Clarette is very fascinating. When she divorced
the blacksmith he was disconsolate, and threatened vengeance; so her life is
quite occupied in avoiding her first husband and keeping track of her secon=
d,
who is too kind-hearted to threaten her as the blacksmith did. I really adm=
ire Clarette--at
a distance. She is positively charming when her mind is free from worry--and
the children are asleep."
"Then you think," said Ajo, who was
standing by and listening to Maurie's labored explanations, "that it is
the blacksmith who is condemned as a spy, and not yourself?"
"I am quite sure of it. Am I not here,
driving your ambulance and going boldly among the officers? If it is Jakob
Maurie they wish, he is at hand to be arrested."
"But you are not Jakob Maurie."
The Belgian gave a start, but instantly recove=
ring
he answered with a smile:
"Then I must have mistaken my identity,
monsieur. Perhaps you will tell me who I am?"
"Your wife called you 'Henri,'" said
Patsy.
"Ah, yes; a pet name. I believe the
blacksmith is named Henri, and poor Clarette is so accustomed to it that she
calls me Henri when she wishes to be affectionate."
Patsy realized the folly of arguing with him. =
"Maurie," said she, "or whatever
your name may be, you have been faithful in your duty to us and we have no
cause for complaint. But I believe you do not speak the truth, and that you=
are
shifty and artful. I fear you will come to a bad end."
"Sometimes, mamselle," he replied,
"I fear so myself. But, peste! why should we care? If it is the end, w=
hat
matter whether it is good or bad?"
Watching their faces closely, he saw frank
disapproval of his sentiments written thereon. It disturbed him somewhat th=
at
they did not choose to continue the conversation, so he said meekly:
"With your kind permission, I will now go
below for a cup of coffee," and left them with a bow and a flourish of=
his
cap. When he had gone Patsy said to Ajo:
"I don't believe there is any such person=
as
the blacksmith."
"Nor I," was the boy's reply. "=
Both
those children are living images of Maurie, who claims the blacksmith was t=
heir
father. He's a crafty little fellow, that chauffeur of ours, and we must lo=
ok
out for him."
"If he is really a spy," continued t=
he
girl, after a brief period of thought, "I am amazed that he dared join=
our
party and go directly to the front, where he is at any time likely to be
recognized."
"Yes, that is certainly puzzling,"
returned Ajo. "And he's a brave little man, too, fearless of danger and
reckless in exposing himself to shot and shell. Indeed, our Maurie is somet=
hing
of a mystery and the only thing I fully understand is his objection to
Clarette's society."
At "le revue matin," as the girls ca=
lled
the first inspection of the morning, eight of their patients were found suf=
ficiently
recovered to be discharged. Some of these returned to their regiments and
others were sent to their homes to await complete recovery. The hospital sh=
ip
could accommodate ten more patients, so it was decided to make a trip to Di=
xmude,
where an artillery engagement was raging, with the larger ambulance.
"I think I shall go to-day," announc=
ed
Gys, who was wearing his mask. "Dr. Kelsey can look after the patients=
and
it will do me good to get off the ship."
Uncle John looked at the doctor seriously.
"There is hard fighting, they say, in the
Dixmude district. The Germans carried the British trenches yesterday, and
to-day the Allies will try to retake them."
"I don't mind," returned the doctor,=
but
he shuddered, nevertheless.
"Why don't you avoid the--the danger
line?" suggested Mr. Merrick.
"A man can't run away from himself, sir; =
and
perhaps you can understand the fascination I find in taunting the craven sp=
irit
within me."
"No, I can't understand it. But suit
yourself."
"I shall drive," announced Maurie. <= o:p>
"You may be recognized," said Patsy
warningly.
"Clarette will not be at the front, and on
the way I shall be driving. Have you noticed how people scatter at the soun=
d of
our gong?"
"The authorities are watching for
spies," asserted Ajo.
Maurie's face became solemn.
"Yes; of course. But--the blacksmith is n=
ot
here, and," he added with assurance, "the badge of the Red Cross
protects us from false accusations."
When they had gone Uncle John said thoughtfull=
y to
the girls:
"That remark about the Red Cross impressed
me. If that fellow Maurie is really in danger of being arrested and shot, he
has cleverly placed himself in the safest service in the world. He knows th=
at
none of our party is liable to be suspected of evil."
During the morning they were visited by a Fren=
ch
official who came aboard in a government boat and asked to see Mr. Merrick.=
The ship had been inspected several times by t=
he
commander of the port and the civil authorities, and its fame as a model
hospital had spread over all Flanders. Some attempt had been made to place =
with
the Americans the most important of the wounded--officers of high rank or t=
hose
of social prominence and wealth--but Mr. Merrick and his aids were determin=
ed
to show no partiality. They received the lowly and humble as well as the hi=
gh
and mighty and the only requisite for admission was an injury that demanded=
the
care of good nurses and the skill of competent surgeons.
Uncle John knew the French general and greeted=
him
warmly, for he appreciated his generous co-operation. But Beth had to be ca=
lled
in to interpret because her uncle knew so little of the native language.
First they paid a visit to the hospital sectio=
n,
where the patients were inspected. Then the register and records were caref=
ully
gone over and notes taken by the general's secretary. Finally they returned=
to
the after-deck to review the convalescents who were lounging there in their=
cushioned
deck-chairs.
"Where is the German, Lieutenant Elbl?&qu=
ot;
inquired the general, looking around with sudden suspicion.
"In the captain's room," replied Bet=
h.
"Would you like to see him?"
"If you please."
The group moved forward to the room occupied by
Captain Carg. The door and windows stood open and reclining upon a couch in=
side
was the maimed German, with Carg sitting beside him. Both were solemnly smo=
king
their pipes.
The captain rose as the general entered, while
Elbl gave his visitor a military salute.
"So you are better?" asked the
Frenchman.
Beth repeated this in English to Carg, who
repeated it in German to Elbl. Yes, the wounded man was doing very well.
"Will you keep him here much longer?"
was the next question, directed to Mr. Merrick.
"I think so," was the reply. "H=
e is
still quite weak, although the wound is healing nicely. Being a military
prisoner, there is no other place open to him where the man can be as
comfortable as here."
"You will be responsible for his person? =
You
will guarantee that he will not escape?"
Mr. Merrick hesitated.
"Must we promise that?" he inquired.=
"Otherwise I shall be obliged to remove h=
im
to a government hospital."
"I don't like that. Not that your hospita=
ls
are not good enough for a prisoner, but Elbl happens to be a cousin of our
captain, which puts a different face on the matter. What do you say, Captain
Carg? Shall we guarantee that your cousin will not try to escape?"
"Why should he, sir? He can never rejoin =
the
army, that's certain," replied Carg.
"True," said the general, when this =
was
conveyed to him by Beth. "Nevertheless, he is a prisoner of war, and m=
ust
not be allowed to escape to his own people."
Beth answered the Frenchman herself, looking h=
im
straight in the face.
"That strikes me as unfair, sir," sa=
id
she. "The German must henceforth be a noncombatant. He has been unable,
since he was wounded and brought here, to learn any of your military secrets
and at the best he will lie a helpless invalid for weeks to come. Therefore,
instead of making him a prisoner, it would be more humane to permit him to
return to his home and family in Germany."
The general smiled indulgently.
"It might be more humane, mademoiselle, b=
ut
unfortunately it is against the military code. Did I understand that your
captain will guarantee the German's safety?"
"Of course," said Carg. "If he
escapes, I will surrender myself in his place."
"Ah; but we moderns cannot accept Pythias=
if
Damon runs away," laughed the general. "But, there; it will be
simpler to send a parole for him to sign, when he may be left in your charge
until he is sufficiently recovered to bear the confinement of a prison. Is =
that
satisfactory?"
"Certainly, sir," replied the captai=
n.
Elbl had remained silent during this conversat=
ion,
appearing not to understand the French and English spoken. Indeed, since his
arrival he had only spoken the German language, and that mostly in his
intercourse with Carg. But after the French officer had gone away Beth bega=
n to
reflect upon this reticence.
"Isn't it queer," she remarked to Un=
cle
John, "that an educated German--one who has been through college, as
Captain Carg says Elbl has--should be unable to understand either French or
English? I have always been told the German colleges are very thorough and =
you
know that while at Ostend we found nearly all the German officers spoke goo=
d English."
"It is rather strange, come to think of
it," answered Uncle John. "I believe the study of languages is a =
part
of the German military education. But I regret that the French are determin=
ed
to keep the poor fellow a prisoner. Such a precaution is absurd, to my
mind."
"I think I can understand the French
position," said the girl, reflectively. "These Germans are very
obstinate, and much as I admire Lieutenant Elbl I feel sure that were he ab=
le
he would fight the French again to-morrow. After his recovery he might even=
get
one of those mechanical feet and be back on the firing line."
"He's a Uhlan."
"Then he could ride a horse. I believe,
Uncle, the French are justified in retaining him as a prisoner until the wa=
r is
over."
Meantime, in the captain's room the two men we=
re
quietly conversing.
"He wants you to sign a parole," said
Carg.
"Not I."
"You may as well. I'm responsible for your
safety."
"I deny anyone's right to be responsible =
for
me. If you have made a promise to that effect, withdraw it," said the
German.
"If I do, they'll put you in prison."=
;
"Not at present. I am still an invalid. In
reality. I am weak and suffering. Yet I am already planning my escape, and =
that
is why I insist that you withdraw any promise you have made. Otherwise--&qu=
ot;
"Otherwise?"
"Instead of escaping by water, as I had
intended, to Ostend, I must go to the prison and escape from there. It will=
be
more difficult. The water route is best."
"Of course," agreed the captain, smi=
ling
calmly.
"One of your launches would carry me to
Ostend and return here between dark and daylight."
"Easily enough," said Carg. It was f=
ive
minutes before he resumed his speech. Then he said with quiet deliberation:
"Cousin, I am an American, and Americans are neutral in this war."=
;
"You are Sangoan."
"My ship is chartered by Americans, which
obliges the captain of the ship to be loyal to its masters. I will do nothi=
ng
to conflict with the interests of the Americans, not even to favor my
cousin."
"Quite right," said Elbl.
"If you have any plan of escape in mind, =
do
not tell me of it," continued the captain. "I shall order the
launches guarded carefully. I shall do all in my power to prevent your gett=
ing
away from this ship."
"Thank you," said the German. "=
You
have my respect, cousin. Pass the tobacco."
There was considerable excitement when the
ambulance returned. Part of the roof had been torn away, the doors were gon=
e,
the interior wrecked and not a pane of glass remained in the sides; yet Ajo
drove it to the dock, the motor working as smoothly as ever, and half a doz=
en
wounded were helped out and put into the launch to be taken aboard the hosp=
ital
ship.
When all were on deck, young Jones briefly
explained what had happened. A shell had struck the ambulance, which had be=
en
left in the rear, but without injuring the motor in any way. Fortunately no=
one
was near at the time. When they returned they cleared away the rubbish to m=
ake
room for a few wounded men and then started back to the city.
Doctor Gys, hatless and coatless, his hair awry
and the mask making him look more hideous than ever, returned with the party
and came creeping up the ship's ladder in so nervous a condition that his
trembling knees fairly knocked together.
The group around Ajo watched him silently.
"What do you think that fool did?" a=
sked
the boy, as Gys slunk away to his room.
"Tell us," pleaded Patsy, who was on=
e of
the curious group surrounding him.
"We had gone near to where a machine gun =
was
planted, to pick up a fallen soldier, when without warning the Germans char=
ged
the gun. Maurie and I made a run for life, but Gys stood stock still, facing
the enemy. A man at the gun reeled and fell, just then, and with a hail of
bullets flying around him the doctor coolly walked up and bent over him. Th=
e sight
so amazed the Germans that they actually stopped fighting and waited for hi=
m.
Perhaps it was the Red Cross on the doctor's arm that influenced them, but
imagine a body of soldiers in the heat of a charge suddenly stopping becaus=
e of
one man!"
"Well, what happened?" asked Mr.
Merrick.
"I couldn't see very well, for a battery =
that
supported the charge was shelling the retreating Allies and just then our
ambulance was hit. But Maurie says he watched the scene and that when Gys
attempted to lift the wounded man up he suddenly turned weak as water. The
Germans had captured the gun, by this time, and their officer himself hoist=
ed
the injured man upon the doctor's shoulders and attended him to our ambulan=
ce.
When I saw the fight was over I hastened to help Gys, who staggered so weak=
ly
that he would have dropped his man a dozen times on the way had not the Ger=
mans
held him up. They were laughing, as if the whole thing was a joke, when cra=
ck!
came a volley of bullets and with a great shout back rushed the French and
Belgians in a counter-charge. I admit I ducked, crawling under the ambulanc=
e,
and the Germans were so surprised that they beat a quick retreat.
"And now it was that Gys made a fool of
himself. He tore off his cap and coat, which bore the Red Cross emblem, and
leaped right between the two lines. Here were the Germans, firing as they
retreated, and the Allies firing as they charged, and right in the center of
the fray stood Gys. The man ought to have been shot to pieces, but nothing =
touched
him until a Frenchman knocked him over because he was in the way of the rus=
h.
It was the most reckless, suicidal act I ever heard of!"
Uncle John looked worried. He had never told a=
ny
of them of Dr. Gys' strange remark during their first interview, but he had=
not
forgotten it. "I'll be happier when I can shake off this horrible enve=
lope
of disfigurement," the doctor had declared, and in view of this the re=
port
of that day's adventure gave the kind-hearted gentleman a severe shock.
He walked the deck thoughtfully while the girls
hurried below to look after the new patients who had been brought, not too
comfortably, in the damaged ambulance. "It was a bad fight," Ajo =
had
reported, "and the wounded were thick, but we could only bring a few of
them. Before we left the field, however, an English ambulance and two French
ones arrived, and that gave us an opportunity to get away. Indeed, I was so=
unnerved
by the dangers we had miraculously escaped that I was glad to be out of
it."
Uncle John tried hard to understand Doctor Gys,
but the man's strange, abnormal nature was incomprehensible. When, half an =
hour
later, Mr. Merrick went below, he found the doctor in the operating room, c=
ool
and steady of nerve and dressing wounds in his best professional manner.
Upon examination the next morning the large
ambulance was found to be so badly damaged that it had to be taken to a rep=
air
shop in the city to undergo reconstruction. It would take several weeks to =
put
it in shape, declared the French mechanics, so the Americans would be force=
d to
get along with the smaller vehicle. Jones and Dr. Kelsey made regular trips=
with
this, but the fighting had suddenly lulled and for several days no new pati=
ents
were brought to the ship, although many were given first aid in the trenches
for slight wounds.
So the colony aboard the Arabella grew gradual=
ly
less, until on the twenty-sixth of November the girls found they had but two
patients to care for--Elbl and Andrew Denton. Neither required much nursing,
and Denton's young wife insisted on taking full charge of him. But while th=
e hospital
ship was not in demand at this time there were casualties day by day in the
trenches, where the armies faced each other doggedly and watchfully and sho=
ts
were frequently interchanged when a soldier carelessly exposed his person to
the enemy. So the girls took turns going with the ambulance, and Uncle John
made no protest because so little danger attended these journeys.
Each day, while one of the American girls rode=
to
the front, the other two would visit the city hospitals and render whatever
assistance they could to the regular nurses. Gys sometimes accompanied them=
and
sometimes went to the front with the ambulance; but he never caused his fri=
ends
anxiety on these trips, because he could not endanger his life, owing to the
cessation of fighting.
The only incident that enlivened this period of
stagnation was the capture of Maurie. No; the authorities didn't get him, b=
ut
Clarette did. Ajo and Patsy had gone into the city one afternoon and on the=
ir
return to the docks, where their launch was moored, they found a street urc=
hin awaiting
them with a soiled scrap of paper clenched fast in his fist. He surrendered=
it
for a coin and Patsy found the following words scrawled in English:
"She has me fast. Help! Be quick. I cannot
save myself so you must save me. It is your Maurie who is in distress."=
;
They laughed a little at first and then began =
to
realize that the loss of their chauffeur would prove a hardship when fighti=
ng
was resumed. Maurie might not be a good husband, and he might be afraid of a
woman, but was valuable when bullets were flying. Patsy asked the boy:
"Can you lead us to the man who gave you =
this
paper?"
"Oui, mamselle."
"Then hurry, and you shall have five cent=
imes
more."
The injunction was unnecessary, for the urchin
made them hasten to keep up with him. He made many turns and twists through
narrow alleys and back streets until finally he brought them to a row of ch=
eap,
plastered huts built against the old city wall. There was no mistaking the
place, for in the doorway of one of the poorest dwellings stood Clarette, h=
er ample
figure fairly filling the opening, her hands planted firmly on her broad hi=
ps.
"Good evening," said Patsy pleasantl=
y.
"Is Maurie within?"
"Henri is within," answered Clarette
with a fierce scowl, "and he is going to stay within."
"But we have need of his services," =
said
Ajo sternly, "and the man is in our employ and under contract to obey
us."
"I also need his services," retorted
Clarette, "and I made a contract with him before you did, as my marria=
ge
papers will prove."
The little boy and girl had now crowded into t=
he
doorway on either side of their mother, clinging to her skirts while they
"made faces" at the Americans. Clarette turned to drive the child=
ren
away and in the act allowed Patsy and Ajo to glance past her into the hut. =
There stood little Maurie, sleeves rolled above
his elbows, bending over a battered dishpan where he was washing a mess of
cracked and broken pottery. He met their gaze with a despairing countenance=
and
a gesture of appeal that scattered a spray of suds from big wet fingers. Ne=
xt moment
Clarette had filled the doorway again.
"You may as well go away," said the
woman harshly.
Patsy stood irresolute.
"Have you money to pay the rent and to
provide food and clothing?" she presently asked.
"I have found a few francs in Henri's
pockets," was the surly reply.
"And when they are gone?"
Clarette gave a shrug.
"When they are gone we shall not
starve," she said. "There is plenty of charity for the Belgians t=
hese
days. One has but to ask, and someone gives."
"Then you will not let us have Maurie?&qu=
ot;
"No, mademoiselle." Then she unbent a
little and added: "If my husband goes to you, they will be sure to cat=
ch
him some day, and when they catch him they will shoot him."
"Why?"
"Don't you know?"
"No."
Clarette smiled grimly.
"When Henri escapes me, he always gets
himself into trouble. He is not so very bad, but he is careless--and foolis=
h.
He tries to help the Germans and the French at the same time, to be
accommodating, and so both have conceived a desire to shoot him. Well; when
they shoot him he can no longer earn money to support me and his
children."
"Are they really his children?" inqu=
ired
young Jones.
"Who else may claim them, monsieur?"=
"I thought they were the children of your
first husband, the blacksmith."
Clarette glared at him, with lowering brow.
"Blacksmith? Pah! I have no husband but
Henri, and heaven forsook me when I married him."
"Come, Patsy," said Ajo to his compa=
nion,
"our errand here is hopeless. And--perhaps Clarette is right."
They made their way back to the launch in sile=
nce.
Patsy was quite disappointed in Maurie. He had so many admirable qualities =
that
it was a shame he could be so untruthful and unreliable.
As time passed on the monotony that followed t=
heir
first exciting experiences grew upon them and became oppressive. December
weather in Flanders brought cutting winds from off the North Sea and often
there were flurries of snow in the air. They had steam heat inside the ship=
but
the deck was no longer a practical lounging place.
Toward the last of the month Lieutenant Elbl w=
as
so fully recovered that he was able to hobble about on crutches. The friend=
ship
between the two cousins continued and Elbl was often found in the captain's
room. No more had been said about a parole, but the French officials were e=
vidently
keeping an eye on the German, for one morning an order came to Mr. Merrick =
to
deliver Elbl to the warden of the military prison at Dunkirk on or before t=
en
o'clock the following day.
While the German received this notification wi=
th
his accustomed stolid air of indifference, his American friends were all
grieved at his transfer. They knew the prison would be very uncomfortable f=
or
the invalid and feared he was not yet sufficiently recovered to be able to =
bear
the new conditions imposed upon him. There was no thought of protesting the
order, however, for they appreciated the fact that the commandant had been
especially lenient in leaving the prisoner so long in their care.
The Americans were all sitting together in the
cabin that evening after dinner, when to their astonishment little Maurie c=
ame
aboard in a skiff, bearing an order from the French commandant to Captain C=
arg,
requesting him to appear at once at military headquarters.
Not only was Carg puzzled by this strange summ=
ons
but none of the others could understand it. The Belgian, when questioned,
merely shook his head. He was not the general's confidant, but his fee as
messenger would enable him to buy bread for his family and he had been chos=
en
because he knew the way to the hospital ship.
As there was nothing to do but obey, the capta=
in
went ashore in one of the launches, which towed the skiff in which Maurie h=
ad
come.
When he had gone, Lieutenant Elbl, who had been
sitting in the cabin, bade the others good night and retired to his room. M=
ost
of the others retired early, but Patsy, Uncle John and Doctor Gys decided to
sit up and await the return of the captain. It was an exceptionally cool ev=
ening
and the warmth of the forward cabin was very agreeable.
Midnight had arrived when the captain's launch
finally drew up to the side and Carg came hastening into the cabin. His
agitated manner was so unusual that the three watchers with one accord spra=
ng
to their feet with inquiring looks.
"Where's Elbl?" asked the captain
sharply.
"Gone to bed," said Uncle John.
"When?"
"Hours ago. I think he missed your society
and was rather broken up over the necessity of leaving us to-morrow." =
Without hesitation Carg turned on his heel and
hastened aft. They followed him in a wondering group. Reaching the German's
stateroom the captain threw open the door and found it vacant.
"Humph!" he exclaimed. "I suspe=
cted
the truth when I found our launch was gone."
"Which launch?" asked Uncle John,
bewildered.
"The one I left with the ship. On my retu=
rn,
just now, I discovered it was not at its moorings. Someone has stolen it.&q=
uot;
They stared at him in amazement.
"Wasn't the deck patrolled?" asked
Patsy, the first to recover.
"We don't set a watch till ten-thirty. It
wasn't considered necessary. But I had no suspicion of the trick Elbl has
played on me to-night," he added with a groan. Their voices had aroused
others. Ajo came out of his room, enveloped in a heavy bathrobe, and soon a=
fter
Maud and Beth joined them.
"What's up?" demanded the boy.
"The German has tricked us and made his
escape," quietly answered Dr. Gys. "For my part, I'm glad of
it."
"It was a conspiracy," growled the
captain. "That rascal, Maurie--"
"Oh, was Maurie in it?"
"Of course. He was the decoy; perhaps he
arranged the whole thing."
"Didn't the general want you, then?"=
Carg was so enraged that he fairly snorted.
"Want me? Of course he didn't want me! Th=
at
treacherous little Belgian led me into the waiting room and said the general
would see me in a minute. Then he walked away and I sat there like a bump o=
n a
log and waited. Finally I began to wonder how Maurie, who was always shy of=
facing
the authorities, had happened to be the general's messenger. It looked quee=
r.
Officers and civilians were passing back and forth but no one paid any
attention to me; so after an hour or so I asked an officer who entered from=
an
inner room, when I could see the general. He said the general was not there=
evenings
but would be in his office to-morrow morning. Then I showed him my order an=
d he
glanced at it and said it was forged; wasn't the general's signature and wa=
sn't
in proper form, anyhow. When I started to go he wouldn't let me; said the
affair was suspicious and needed investigation. So he took me to a room ful=
l of
officers and they asked me a thousand fool questions. Said they had no reco=
rd
of a Belgian named Maurie and had never heard of him before. I couldn't fig=
ure
the thing out, and they couldn't; so finally they let me come back to the
ship."
"Strange," mused Uncle John; "v=
ery
strange!"
"I was so stupid," continued Carg,
"that I never thought of Elbl being at the bottom of the affair until I
got back and found our launch missing. Then I remembered that Elbl was to h=
ave
been turned over to the prison authorities to-morrow and like a flash I saw
through the whole thing."
"I'm blamed if I do," declared Mr.
Merrick.
The others likewise shook their heads.
"He got me out of the way, stole the laun=
ch,
and is half way to Ostend by this time."
"Alone? And wounded--still an invalid?&qu=
ot;
"Doubtless Maurie is with him. The rascal=
can
run an automobile; so I suppose he can run a launch."
"What puzzles me," remarked Patsy,
"is how Lieutenant Elbl ever got hold of Maurie, and induced him to as=
sist
him, without our knowing anything about it."
"I used to notice them talking together a
good bit," said Jones.
"But Clarette has kept Maurie a prisoner.=
She
wouldn't let him come back to the ship."
"He was certainly at liberty to-night,&qu=
ot;
answered Beth. "Isn't this escape liable to be rather embarrassing to =
us,
Uncle John?"
"I'm afraid so," was the reply. &quo=
t;We
agreed to keep him safely until the authorities demanded we give him up; and
now, at the last minute, we've allowed him to get away."
Anxiety was written on every countenance as th=
ey
considered the serious nature of this affair. Only Gys seemed composed and
unworried.
"Is it too late to go in chase of the
launch?" asked Ajo, breaking a long pause. "They're headed for
Ostend, without a doubt, and there's a chance that they may run into a
sand-bank in the dark, or break down, or meet with some other accident to d=
elay
them."
"I believe it's worth our while, sir,&quo=
t;
answered Carg. "The launch we have is the faster, and the trip will sh=
ow
our good faith, if nothing more."
"Then make ready to start at once," =
said
Ajo, "and I'll dress and go along."
Carg hurried away to give orders and the boy r=
an
to his stateroom. Five minutes later they were away, with four sailors to
assist in the capture of the fugitives in case they were overtaken.
It was a fruitless journey, however. At daybre=
ak,
as they neared Ostend, they met their stolen launch coming back, in charge =
of a
sleepy Belgian who had been hired to return it. The man frankly stated that=
he
had undertaken the task in order to get to Dunkirk, where he had friends, a=
nd
he had been liberally paid by a German on crutches, who had one foot missin=
g,
and a little Belgian whom he had never seen before, but who, from the descr=
iption
given, could be none other than Maurie.
They carried the man back with them to the
Arabella, where further questioning added nothing to their information. They
now had proof, however, that Elbl was safe with his countrymen at Ostend and
that Maurie had been his accomplice.
"I would not believe," said Patsy, w=
hen
she heard the story, "that a Belgian could be so disloyal to his
country."
"Every nation has its quota of black
sheep," replied Uncle John, "and from what we have learned of
Maurie's character he is not at all particular which side he serves." =
The escape of a prisoner of war from the Ameri=
can
hospital ship was made the subject of a rigid inquiry by the officials and
proved extremely humiliating to all on board the Arabella. The commandant
showed his irritation by severely reprimanding Mr. Merrick for carelessness,
while Captain Carg had to endure a personal examination before a board of i=
nquiry.
He was able to prove that he had been at headquarters during the evening of=
the
escape, but that did not wholly satisfy his inquisitors. Finally an order w=
as
issued forbidding the Americans to take any more wounded Germans or Austria=
ns
aboard their ship, and that seemed to end the unpleasant affair.
However, a certain friction was engendered that was later evidenced on both sides. The American ambulance was no longer fav= ored on its trips to the front, pointed preference being given the English and French Red Cross Emergency Corps. This resulted in few wounded being taken = to the Arabella, as the Americans confined their work largely to assisting the injured on the field of battle. The girls were not to be daunted in their determined efforts to aid the unfortunate and every day one of them visited= the trenches to assist the two doctors in rendering first aid to the wounded. <= o:p>
The work was no longer arduous, for often enti=
re
days would pass without a single casualty demanding their attention. The co=
ld
weather resulted in much sickness among the soldiers, however, and Gys foun=
d during
this period of military inactivity that his medicine chest was more in dema=
nd than
his case of surgical instruments.
A slight diversion was created by Clarette, who
came to the ship to demand her husband from the Americans. It seemed almost
impossible to convince her that Maurie was not hidden somewhere aboard, but=
at
last they made the woman understand he had escaped with the German to Osten=
d.
They learned from her that Maurie--or Henri, as she insisted he was named--=
had
several times escaped from her house at night, while she was asleep, and
returned at daybreak in the morning, and this information led them to suspe=
ct
he had managed to have several secret conferences with Lieutenant Elbl prev=
ious
to their flight. Clarette announced her determination to follow her husband=
to
Ostend, and perhaps she did so, as they did not see her again.
It was on Sunday, the twentieth of December, t=
hat
the Battle of the Dunes began and the flames of war burst out afresh. The d=
unes
lay between the North Sea and the Yser River in West Flanders and consisted=
of
a stretch of sandy hillocks reaching from Coxyde to Nieuport les Bains. The
Belgians had entrenched these dunes in an elaborate and clever manner,
shoveling the sand into a series of high lateral ridges, with alternate
hollows, which reached for miles along the coast. The hollows were from six=
to
eight feet deep, affording protection to the soldiers, who could neverthele=
ss
fire upon the enemy by creeping up the sloping embankments until their heads
projected sufficiently to allow them to aim, when they could drop back to
safety.
In order to connect the hollows one with anoth=
er,
that an advance or retreat might be made under cover, narrow trenches had b=
een
cut at intervals diagonally through the raised mounds of sand. Military exp=
erts
considered this series of novel fortifications to be practically impregnabl=
e,
for should the enemy defile through one of the cross passages into a hollow
where the Allies were gathered, they could be picked off one by one, as they
appeared, and be absolutely annihilated.
Realizing this, the Germans had not risked an
attack, but after long study of the defences had decided that by means of
artillery they might shell the Belgians, who held the dunes, and destroy th=
em
as they lay in the hollows. So a heavy battery had been planted along the
German lines for this work, while in defence the Belgians confronted them w=
ith
their own famous dog artillery, consisting of the deadly machine guns. The =
battle
of December twentieth therefore began with an artillery duel, resulting in =
so
many casualties that the Red Cross workers found themselves fully occupied.=
Beth went with the ambulance the first day, wo=
rked
in the hollows of the dunes, and returned to the ship at night completely w=
orn
out by the demands upon her services. It was Patsy's turn next, and she took
with her the second day one of the French girls as assistant.
When the ambulance reached the edge of the dun=
es,
where it was driven by Ajo, the battle was raging with even more vigor than=
the
previous day. The Germans were dropping shells promiscuously into the vario=
us
hollows, hoping to locate the hidden Belgian infantry, while the Belgian ar=
tillery
strove to destroy the German gunners. Both succeeded at times, and both sid=
es
were equally persistent.
As it was impossible to take the ambulance into
the dunes, it was left in the rear in charge of Jones, while the others
threaded their way in and out the devious passages toward the front. They h=
ad
covered fully a mile in this laborious fashion before they came upon a
detachment of Belgian infantry which was lying in wait for a call to action.
Beyond this trench the doctors and nurses were forbidden to go, and the off=
icer
in command warned the Americans to beware of stray shells.
Under these circumstances they contented
themselves by occupying some of the rear hollows, to which the wounded would
retreat to secure their services. Dr. Kelsey and Nanette, the French girl,
established themselves in one hollow at the right, while Dr. Gys and Patsy =
took
their position in another hollow further to the left. There they opened the=
ir
cases of lint, plaster and bandages, spreading them out upon the sand, and =
were
soon engaged in administering aid to an occasional victim of the battle.
One man who came to Patsy with a slight wound =
on
his shoulder told her that a shell had exploded in a forward hollow and kil=
led
outright fifteen of his comrades. His own escape from death was miraculous =
and the
poor fellow was so unnerved that he cried like a baby.
They directed him to the rear, where he would =
find
the ambulance, and awaited the appearance of more patients. Gys crawled up =
the
mound of sand in front of them and cautiously raised his head above the rid=
ge. Next
instant he ducked to escape a rain of bullets that scattered the sand about
them like a mist.
"That was foolish," said Patsy
reprovingly. "You might have been killed."
"No such luck," he muttered in reply,
but the girl could see that he trembled slightly with nervousness. Neither
realized at the time the fatal folly of the act, for they were unaware that=
the
Germans were seeking just such a clew to direct them where to drop their
shells.
"It's getting rather lonely here, and the=
re
are a couple of vacant hollows in front of us," remarked the doctor.
"Suppose we move over to one of those, a little nearer the soldiers?&q=
uot;
Patsy approved the proposition, so they gather=
ed
up their supplies and moved along the hollow to where a passage had been cut
through. They had gone barely a hundred yards when a screech, like a buzz-s=
aw
when it strikes a nail, sounded overhead. Looking up they saw a black disk =
hurtling
through the air, to drop almost where they had been standing a moment befor=
e.
There was a terrific explosion that sent debris to their very feet.
"After this we'll be careful how we expose
ourselves," said the doctor gravely. "They have got our range in a
hurry. Here comes another; we'd better get away quickly."
They progressed perhaps half a mile, without
coming upon any soldiers, when at the brow of a hill slightly higher than t=
he
rest, they became aware of unwonted activity. A trench had been dug along t=
he
ridge, with great pits here and there to serve as bomb-proof shelters. Every
time a head projected above the ridge, a storm of bullets showed that the e=
nemy
was well within rifle range. In fact, it was to dislodge the Germans that t=
he
present intrenchments were being made; machine guns would be mounted as soo=
n as
positions had been prepared.
The German bullets had already taken their tol=
l.
In the little valley a poor Belgian pressed his hand against a bad wound in=
his
side, while another was nursing an arm roughly bandaged by his fellows in t=
he trenches.
First aid made the two comfortable for the time being at least and the men =
were
directed toward the ambulance. As they left, the man with the wounded arm
pointed down the narrow valley to where a deep ravine cut through. "We
were driven from there," he said. "The big guns dropped shells on=
us
and killed many; there are many wounded beyond--but you cannot cross the
ravine. We lost ten in doing it."
Nevertheless, the doctor and Patsy strode off.
Just within the shelter of the ridge they found another Belgian, desperately
wounded, and the doctor stopped to ease his pain with the hypodermic needle.
Patsy looked across the narrow defile; it was a bare fifty feet, and seemed
safe enough. Her Red Cross uniform would protect her, she reasoned, and bol=
dly
enough she stepped out into the open. A cry from a wounded soldier ahead
hastened her footsteps. Without heeding the warning shout of Doctor Gys she
calmly stooped over the man who had called to her.
And then there was a sudden rending, blinding,
terrifying crash that sent the world into a thousand shrieking echoes. A hu=
ge
shell had fallen not fifty feet away, plowing its way through the earthworks
above. Its explosion sent timbers, abandoned gun-carriages, everything, fly=
ing through
the air. And one great piece of wood caught Patsy a glancing blow on the ba=
ck
of her head as she crouched over the wounded Belgian. With a weak cry she
toppled over, not unconscious, but unable to raise herself.
Another shell crashed down a hundred yards awa=
y,
and then one closer that sent the sand spouting high in a blinding cloud. S=
he
raised herself slowly and glanced back toward Doctor Gys. He stood, his face
ashen with fear, hiding behind the shelter of the other hill. He looked up =
as
she stirred; a cry of relief came to his lips.
"Wait!" he called, bracing up sudden=
ly.
"Wait and I will get you."
Bending his head low he sprang across the
unprotected space. He stopped with a sudden jerk and then came on.
"You were hit!" cried Patsy as he be=
nt
over her.
"It is nothing," he answered brusque=
ly.
"Hold tight around my neck." "Now--" another shell
scattered sand over them--"we must get away from here."
Breathing thickly, he staggered across the ope=
n,
dropping her with a great groan behind the protection of the ridge.
"The man you were helping," he gaspe=
d.
"I must bring him in."
"But you are wounded--" Patsy cried.=
He straightened up--his hand clutched his
side--there came across his disfigured features a queer twisted smile--he
sighed softly and slowly sank in a crumpled heap. A clean little puncture in
the breast of his coat told the whole story. Patsy felt herself slipping....
All grew dark.
*
It was Ajo who found her and carried her back =
to
the ambulance, where Dr. Kelsey and Nanette were presently able to restore =
her
to consciousness. Then they returned to the Arabella, grave and silent, and
Patsy was put to bed. Before morning Beth and Maud were anxiously nursing h=
er,
for she had developed a high fever and was delirious.
The days that succeed were anxious ones, for
Patsy's nerves had given away completely. It was many weeks later that the =
rest
of them met on deck.
"It's the first of February," said U=
ncle
John. "Don't you suppose Patsy could start for home pretty soon?"=
"Perhaps so," answered Maud. "S=
he
is sitting up to-day, and seems brighter and more like herself. Have we
decided, then, to return to America?"
"I believe so," was the reply. "=
;We
can't keep Ajo's ship forever, you know, and without Doctor Gys we could ne=
ver
make it useful as a hospital ship again."
"That is true," said the girl,
thoughtfully. "Now that Andrew Denton, with his wife and the countess,
have gone to Charleroi, our ship seems quite lonely."
"You see," said Ajo, taking part in =
the
discussion, "we've never been able to overcome the suspicious coldness=
of
these Frenchmen, caused by Elbl's unfortunate escape. We are not trusted fu=
lly,
and never will be again, so I'm convinced our career of usefulness here is
ended."
"Aside from that," returned Uncle Jo=
hn,
"you three girls have endured a long period of hard work and nervous
strain, and you need a rest. I'm awfully proud of you all; proud of your no=
ble
determination and courage as well as the ability you have demonstrated as
nurses. You have unselfishly devoted your lives for three strenuous months =
to
the injured soldiers of a foreign war, and I hope you're satisfied that you=
've
done your full duty."
"Well," returned Maud with a smile,
"I wouldn't think of retreating if I felt that our services were really
needed, but there are so many women coming here for Red Cross work--English,
French, Swiss, Dutch and Italian--that they seem able to cover the field
thoroughly."
"True," said Beth, joining the group.
"Let's go home, Uncle. The voyage will put our Patsy in fine shape aga=
in.
When can we start, Ajo?"
"Ask Uncle John."
"Ask Captain Carg."
"If you really mean it," said the ca=
ptain,
"I'll hoist anchor to-morrow morning."